Distinctly Disenchanted
by Countess Jackman
Summary: <html><head></head>"You've got to be kidding me." Waking up in a fairy tale world was the least of their problems.</html>
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Lily waited and waited, and then waited a little bit longer until, finally, the fourth year boy at the table adjacent to hers gave an almighty yawn and gave into the need for sleep. She tried to not look too relieved as he passed her on his way towards the staircase and bid her good-night. Once the sound of his footsteps disappeared, Lily reached under her chair and pulled her bag onto her lap and immediately began to remove her text books. She rummaged through the mess of half-empty ink pots and broken quills until she found it, her favourite book.

It was small and red and bound in leather, the golden clasp long since broken. The spine was cracked in several places, the corners of the cover upturned and worn, and the golden lettering was fading from the years she spent tracing them. A smile touched her lips as she turned the book over in her hands, thinking back to the first time that she had held the book after unwrapping it all those years ago. A gift from her parents on her sixth birthday, it was one of the few things she insisted on bringing with her everywhere, despite the fact she rarely flipped through the pages nowadays.

Vaguely, she wondered what her friends' reactions would be if they ever found out that she still perused through the pages of a fairytale. Cheryl and Janet would probably laugh and tease her for a bit before resuming their usual activities, which mainly consisted of painting each others' nails and gossiping. Mary might think it was sweet, if just a little silly, but it was Marlene, the staple stubborn feminist of their group, whose reaction Lily feared.

Lily imagined that it would be very similar to the first time Marlene discovered that she was reading a child's book. It was back in third year and Marlene, who also happened to have little to no knowledge of personal space, unexpectedly wrenched the hangings round Lily's bed open, only to find the redhead curled up with the book in her lap, crying over the scene in which the prince is wounded by the villain. After that, Marlene had teased Lily relentlessly until one day she forgot about it.

Until today, when she had brought it up at lunch to garner some laughs from their mates.

_"You know they're not real, don't you, Lily?" Marlene asked, with just enough condescension in her tone to inflame Lily's already irritated nerves. "They won't ever come true, your fairy tales."_

_"Of course I know they aren't real," Lily snapped, taking a stab at a boiled potato. She missed, the prongs of her fork skittering across the surface of her gold plate. Grimacing, she added, "I'm not stupid, you know."_

_"Never said you were, but I stand by what I said the other night - those fairy tales are the reason why you've got such a warped perception of what romance is," said Marlene._

_Her temper flaring, Lily raised a challenging eyebrow. "Did IWitch Weekly/I tell you what romance really is? Because I'm dying to find out."_

_"Lily, Marlene," Mary warned, glancing between the two nervously._

_Marlene ignored her. "At least my view is realistic and not some fantastical waffle." She took a drink of her pumpkin juice, staring at Lily over the lip of her goblet. "Look, I'm not saying that you're stupid; you're one of the smartest people I know. But you do need to grow up, Lily. And fast." _

Frowning to herself, Lily brushed her fingers over the cover of the book, the tips of her fingers tracing the letters. She was well aware that fairy tales weren't real and that there was no knight in shining armour waiting to sweep her off of her feet and go riding away into the sunset; she didn't need to be reminded, least of all by Marlene. Still, it certainly didn't mean that she shouldn't want the best for herself. She could still want a prince to woo her, even if she knew there wouldn't be dragons or evil stepmothers involved.

Lily shook her head, clearing Marlene's patronizing tone from her mind, and relocated to an armchair in front of the fireplace. The fire was slowly dying, but there was still enough warmth radiating from the hearth that Lily's toes wouldn't get cold. Once she settled into a comfortable position - her legs thrown over one arm of the couch, her back resting on the other - she turned to the first page where her father had scribbled down a quick note, wishing her a happy birthday and many great adventures. Before the tears could prickle at the backs of her eyes, she flipped the page and delved into the text:

_Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a girl who loved adventures…_

It was a story she must have read over a hundred times, yet every time she cracked open the book, it seemed like a brand new tale. There was always a scene she didn't remember happening, a character she didn't remember existing, but instead of troubling her, it only added to her excitement and to her eagerness to get through this story to get to the next. The further she read, the deeper she sank into the chair until, finally, she was sitting on the floor in front of the fire, reading by the rapidly decreasing light.

As she could hardly been seen from her position on the floor, it was only logical that it was impossible for Lily to see that someone else had entered the common room. If she had been paying attention to something other than the duel between the unlikely hero and the revolting suitor, she would've heard the stream of curses that accompanied the creak of the painting as it swung open. But alas, she was so immersed in the story, it was doubtful that she would have noticed a bomb exploding in the middle of the common room.

It was only when she heard a peal of annoyingly familiar laughter that she pulled her eyes away from the book. Twisting round (and hurriedly fixing her blouse), Lily sought out the only boy in the world who could make her blood run hot.

"Lily," James greeted with a pleasant smile. "What are you doing down here? It's a little late, don't you think?"

"I could ask you the same question," Lily replied, adopting an unnecessarily icy air.

Leaning his forearms against the top of the armchair, James lifted his shoulders into a casual shrug. "Just out for a stroll."

Lily eyed him sceptically, taking in his unusually haggard appearance. His hair was perpetually messy, though his face seemed to glisten in the firelight, almost as though his skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat. But why would he be sweating if he was out for a stroll.

"At two in the morning?"

"Is it that late already?" He pushed back the sleeve of his robes to look at his watch. It was in that moment that Lily noticed what looked like a smear of dirt that started on the side of his hand and disappeared up his sleeve. "Hm, seems it is." He flashed her another quick smile, though this one didn't reach his eyes like the other had. "Is that interesting?"

"Is what interesting?"

James laughed. "Are you Rosencrantz or Guildenstern?" he asked, the lenses of his glasses glinting in the firelight. When she sent him a look, he added, "You know, the characters from Shakespeare's -"

"I know who they are, Potter," Lily interrupted, narrowing her eyes into a glare. "I have to say that I'm surprised that you know who they are, though. I thought the only reading you ever did was straight from the pages of _Quidditch Today_."

Again, James shrugged. "I may be a wizard, but I'm still English. Besides, you're not the only person who reads. Speaking of, is that any good?" He nodded towards the book lying open on the floor.

Lily's eyes went wide and her mouth became as arid as the Gobi desert. "It's all right," she said, her voice cracking slightly as she moved to snatch up the book and secure the broken lock before he could get to it.

"Really?" James scratched the back of his neck, not looking at all convinced. "You seemed really - I don't know - invested in the book. You didn't even look up when I stubbed my toe on the way through the portrait hole, and you always hear me cursing."

"Oh, r-really?" Lily tried to laugh, but it sounded like a plate of glass shattering into a thousand pieces. "I-it's nothing interesting. Really. It's boring. It's, erm, historical fiction pertaining to the T-tudors -"

The Cheshire-like grin on James' face sent a bolt of fear through Lily. "Oh Merlin," he said, his words drowning with his smugness. "You're reading a harlequin romance novel, aren't you, Evans?"

"No!" she objected, offended that he would even suggest it.

He chuckled gleefully. "You so are! That's why you were so captivated by it! Tell me, have they shagged yet? Oh, they must've, you're really far into the book."

Somehow, she knew what he was going to do before he did it. Still, she was no match for him as he was bigger than her and had the advantage of fast reflexes, thanks to that ruddy sport of his.

"Give it back, Potter!" She made a grab for the book, but he simply twisted away from her and held the book up higher. "Potter, I mean it! Give it back!" Instead of jumping, she slapped him on the arm.

"Oh, it must be really naughty if you've resorted to physical violence." He waggled his eyebrows. "Are you in the middle of a sex scene right now?"

"Of course not! Now give it back," she growled, annunciating each syllable with more venom than necessary.

Again, James laughed as he squinted his eyes to read in the dim light. Clearing his throat, he began to read. "_And then, in a flash quicker than lightening, the tip of his blade sank deep into the hero's side, slicing through skin and muscle. A short gasp fell from the hero's lips as he_-" James stopped reading abruptly to look at Lily. "Oi, this isn't a gratuitous sex scene!"

"Of course it's not, Potter," Lily said as she grabbed for the book. James held his arm away from her, and she glowered at him. "If you would have listened to me when I told you it wasn't a harlequin romance novel, then maybe you wouldn't be so disappointed."

"Disappointed?" James repeated, shaking his head. "Hardly. I'm fascinated, actually. It's obviously a fantasy novel of some sort." He closed the book to look at the title.

Lily took advantage of the moment to reach for the book and, to her surprise, she actually caught it between her fingertips. "Let go," she said lowly.

"Not until I figure out what it is," James said, giving a tug so violently, she stumbled towards him. Up close, she could see that his face, like his hand, was sprinkled with flecks of dirt and, unless she was mistaken, what appeared to be blood.

"It's nothing. Just a bit of rubbish." Though her tone was dismissive, her responding pull was strong.

"Then let me see it so I can go to bed." He gave another tug. "I've got Quidditch practice in the morning."

Lily gritted her teeth as she struggled to maintain her hold on the book; it certainly wasn't easy holding onto a small, leather-bound square when her hands were sweating. "Just go to bed now, and I promise I'll show you in the morning."

"You must take me for a fool, Evans," James said as he jerked the book in an attempt to jostle her grip. "I know you'll just switch this book out for another one."

"Why can't you just let it go, Potter?" She tightened her grip on the book. "It's just a book."

James rolled his eyes. "If it's just an ordinary book like you keep insisting it is, then why won't you let me see it? I'm hardly going to make fun of you; I admitted to enjoying the works of William Shakespeare, for Merlin's sake!"

Her annoyance mounting, Lily attempted to kick his shins from where she stood, but they were standing too close together and the position of her leg was too awkward. She cursed under her breath, gritted her teeth, and gave as hard a tug as she could muster.

And that's when it happened.

Truthfully, it happened in the blink of an eye - perhaps even faster. One moment, she heard the gut-wrenching sound of her precious book ripping and the next, it was almost as though she had been enclosed in a wind tunnel. It was extraordinarily loud, the noise resembling the roar of a griffin as it sailed over her eardrums, and the air stung as it tore at her clothing. The wind whipped at her hair, sending her long red locks into a frenzied spiral until her hair looped round her eyes and made it impossible to see.

A scream escaped her as the world flipped over. It turned over and over and over until, suddenly, it stopped. Her body slammed into the ground, the side of her face taking most of the impact. Gasping in pain, she choked on the gritty dirt that drifted through the air. She coughed into her fist so violently, her eyes welled.

"Lily?" James asked, his voice cracking with panic. "Lily, are you okay?"

She groaned, struggling to sit up. Of course he would be here with her. "I'm fine," she managed. The sudden weight of James' hand on her shoulder made her jump - and then wince.

The look he gave her was doubtful at best. "Clearly, you're not. Can you sit up?"

"Yes," she said, and miraculously she managed to do it without wincing.

James didn't smile at her as he pushed himself to his feet. Once he was standing, he held out his hand, more out of instinct than anything else; he was too busy trying to wave away the oddly dense cloud of dirt that seemed to encase them.

Rolling her eyes, Lily attempted to get to her feet by herself, but was unsuccessful. With a grumble, she begrudgingly slid her hand into James's and allowed him to pull her to her feet. As she brushed away the stubborn bits of dust from her robes, she heard James start to laugh. But this laugh wasn't his usual mirthful laugh. Oh no, this one sounded like it belonged to a doomed man.

It sent chills up Lily's spine.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Lily didn't like the tone of his voice. At all. "What is it?"

"See for yourself."

Furrowing her brow, she walked forwards until she was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with James, though it was more head-to-shoulder as he towered over her. At first, she didn't see what he was indicating, but then she waved away the last swirl of dust and it became startlingly clear.

Then she gasped. "No. Is that a -"

"Yes."

"And that's a-"

"I think so."

"Shit," she cursed lowly, staggering backwards slightly as her eye sight went all wonky. James reached out to stabilise her, but she smacked his hand away, blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear her vision. There wasn't a glimmering white castle with dozens of crystal clear spires atop ridiculously tall towers, a near carbon copy of the one from her book; there wasn't a picturesque village nestled in the heart of a lush green and fertile valley overshadowed by a hauntingly dark mountain.

"This isn't real," Lily said.

James glanced uneasily at her. "Obviously, it is."

"No," she insisted with a firm shake of her head, turning to glare up at James. "It can't be real. Fairy tales aren't real!"

James opened his mouth, but the loud burst of laughter was not his. His expression turned to one of curiosity and he stared over her shoulder. As soon as the colour drained from his face, Lily wished she hadn't been watching him so closely. The only obvious thing was that there was something very wrong. Though her every instinct screamed at her, Lily turned to look at whatever it was that had caused the sudden shift in James's demeanour.

Of all the things she had expected, she did not for one second consider a dog. A dragon, definitely. A giant spider, likely. Maybe even a troll. But a dog? She could have laughed at the sight of the larger-than-average black dog with a long snout, grey eyes, and floppy ears sitting in front of them on the dirt road, its head cocked to the side and its tail wagging.

But then the dog did something very peculiar: it smiled at her.

"Of course this is real, Princess," the dog said, eyeing Lily as though Ishe/I was the crazy one. "And just so you know, you're late for tea. Again. So hurry up or else your sister will have your head." The dog laughed again. "Literally."

* * *

><p>AN: Hi, and welcome to my story! I originally posted this on HPFF under my penname SnitchSnatcher, but I decided to post it on here as well so that it might reach a broader audience, and because I've missed the atmosphere. I hope you enjoy this story! Thanks for reading. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

A light breeze kicked up a swirl of dust as Lily and James stood in the middle of the oddly deserted road, both gaping at the black dog in utter shock.

The _talking_ black dog.

Lily shook her head and coughed when she inadvertently inhaled another lungful of dust. "There's no way. Did that dog-"

"-just talk?" James finished, his voice cracking as he eyed the dog disbelievingly. "I think so, but maybe we're experiencing a delusion." His nervous chuckle did little to ease her nerves - if that was what he had been trying to accomplish.

Lily eyed him sceptically. "A delusion?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "Like an after effect or a side effect of the impact or something. I mean, we hit our heads pretty hard." James tried to smile reassuringly at her, but looked more like he was trying to pass a goat.

"The very same delusion?" she reiterated, taking care to lace her tone with as much doubt and contempt as humanly possible.

James shrugged. "It's been known to happen."

"When?" Lily demanded, rounding on him. "When has anything remotely similar to this happened?" She was suddenly very irritated by the sight of his irrevocably messy hair, the way his glasses slid down his nose, and, you know, the whole situation in general. She resisted the urge to bare her teeth in a growl. "And why," she began anew, "would we share a joint delusion featuring a _bloody talking dog_?" She folded her arms over her chest and huffed. "Merlin, Potter, you're daft!"

Was she being unnecessarily harsh with him? Perhaps. But it wasn't every day that you fought over a book full of fairy tales with a seventeen year old boy and got sucked into the pages. Sweet Circe, it sounded even more ridiculous in her head than she cared to admit; she hated to think what it would sound like when she had to say it aloud.

"Oh, I'm daft now, am I?" He let out a rough laugh. "All right, then, Evans, if we're not suffering from a delusion, then what in the name of sanity is this?" He flailed his arms at their current surroundings.

It was irrational, the way James Potter could crawl under her skin and irritate her without actually doing or saying anything to offend her. And for once, it wasn't his charmingly messy appearance that was grating on her nerves or the general air of annoying self-confidence that surrounded him that made her want to tear her hair out. Oh no, it was much more than that. It was the look on his face and the tone of his voice - both were so full of challenge and very little, if any, restraint. For some reason that she couldn't even begin to explain, that, above all other things, including their very peculiar predicament, infuriated her.

"Well, Evans," James prompted. "I'm waiting."

Grinding her teeth, Lily threw her arms up in the air. "I have no bloody idea, Potter! Is that what you wanted to hear? That I haven't the foggiest as to where we are or how we got here or why, out of all the damned people on this ruddy planet, I'm stuck here with _you_! Because there it is! I. Don't. Know. Satisfied?"

"Hardly."

Lily let out a scream of frustration, threading her fingers through her hair. "You're _insufferable_! Did you know that?"

"I think I've heard you say it once or twice, yeah," James replied with such nonchalance that Lily aimed a kick at his shin. Naturally, she missed and only succeeded in upending some more dust and then choking on it. "Hey, now," he said as he waved away the dust, "I think that's really unnecessary!"

"You're unnecessary!" Lily shouted back without thinking. As soon as the words left her mouth, she cursed under her breath. She might as well have painted a target on herself, she was making it so easy for him.

"Very original, Evans," he commented dryly, placing a hand over his heart. "I am so wounded."

She shot him a very dark, very sharp look. "Shut it, will you?"

James smirked in his frustrating way. "I don't think I will. My heart's bleeding too profusely from your barbed remarks to stop."

Her temper flaring, Lily stalked towards James, but before she could cross even half of the distance, the black dog, who had, until now, been observing the scene in utmost delight, barked. The sudden loud and sharp sound made both Gryffindors jump at least a foot in the air in their surprise. Lily even stumbled back into James, who was quick to put her upright and step away.

"As amusing as it is to watch you two banter," the dog began, its tone liberally coated with unabashed mirth, "the princess _really_ must be getting back to the castle. Tea time's already begun and as you very well know, Princess Lily, your sister is very -"

"Princess?" they exclaimed in unison; Lily's voice was full of shock whereas James' was saturated in ridicule.

The dog blinked at them. "Yes," he drawled, giving each a look that clearly questioned their intelligence. "Anyway, Princess, you mustn't tarry any longer. Your sister was in quite a strop when I left; I can't imagine what she'll be like once we make it back to the castle. And just look at the state of you - what in the devil _are_ you wearing?"

Lily opened and closed her mouth several times, still completely flabbergasted by the fact a dog was talking to her. A dog was holding an actual, intelligent conversation with her. Even after living in the wizarding world and encountering all sorts of strange and mystical creatures, talking to a dog was just plain _weird_.

Much to her surprise, James began to roar with laughter. Both Lily and the dog turned to look at him with equal looks of disbelief on their faces, though, there was a certain note of superiority on the dog's face.

"Why are you laughing?" Lily questioned crossly. Really, there was nothing funny about their bizarre situation.

"Why _aren't_ you laughing?" James fired back through his chuckles. "Newsflash, Evans, in case you haven't noticed, you're talking to a dog!"

She pursed her lips as she tried to think of a response.

"And you," the dog barked, training its silver eyes on James, "Mr Potter, are talking to Her Royal Highness, the Princess Lily of Westerflower, and should take care to mind your tongue lest you wish to have it removed!"

Though he had never been particularly intimidated by dogs, James had also never met a dog that could talk; that was the equivalent of meeting a talking lion - while it had been one of James' childhood goals, he knew it was ultimately impossible. But he also thought that the existence of another realm - and a fairy tale realm at that - was impossible, and look how wrong he was.

Sometimes, he really hated magic.

"Erm - okay?"

Besides him, Lily's expression turned incredibly, almost unbearably, smug. Until now, she had been the only person capable of robbing James of speech - and even that talent was waning as the years went on. (Somehow, it seemed, he had built up a resistance to her Silencing Charms). As regretful as she was that she hadn't been the one to put him down, it was still nice to see him silenced.

And by a dog at that.

The dog, too, beamed with self-pride as he swung his gaze back to Lily, who, despite the fact she knew he could talk, was still caught off-guard. "Unless you want to suffer the wrath of Princess Petunia, I suggest that we make haste."

Lily's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "My sister's a princess?"

The dog tilted his head to the side. "Of course she is." His eyes narrowed in concern. "Are you sure you're all right, Princess? Not only are you dressed oddly, but you're keeping company with the help and you keep asking the most bizarre questions."

"The help?" James asked, outraged. "What do you mean 'the help'?"

"I meant precisely what I said, Mr Potter, just as I always do," the dog sniffed haughtily. James flinched; he had heard that haughtiness before, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "You are a stable boy, are you not?"

It was Lily's turn to laugh now, and laugh did she. Her whole body shook as she tossed her head back, several thick locks of her hair spilling over her shoulder. "A stable boy?" she sputtered breathlessly, all but pointing her finger at him in taunting. "You're a stable boy?" She covered her face in an attempt to quiet her snort; it didn't work. She raked her fingers through her hair, effectively pushing it away from her face. "Oh, that is rich!"

James gritted his teeth and ignored her, though, admittedly, it was tough as Lily's laugh was boisterously obnoxious. Usually, he found her laugh endearing, but in this moment, he was less inclined to feel attracted to it. Or her, for that matter. Especially when she snorted like that. Where was she raised, in a pig sty?

Thankfully, the dog leapt to his rescue, however inadvertent the rescue may have been. "Honestly, Your Majesty, pull yourself together! We've got to go. _Now_." To emphasis his point, the dog latched onto the hem of her sleeve and tugged.

Lily squeaked in surprise when she lurched forwards. "Hey!" she exclaimed, fruitlessly digging her heels into the ground. The dog continued to pull her as easily as a sack of potatoes. "Where are you taking me?"

"Dak ut te cassle."

"What?"

The dog spit out the sleeve. "Back to the castle. Where else would I take you?" He gave an extravagant roll of his eyes then seized her sleeve between his teeth, tugging her along.

She fought against the incessant tugging, her stomach twisting with unease. "But what about Ja - I mean, Mr Potter?" Lily asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. He stood a few feet away, his panic evident in his face.

Annoyed, the dog released her sleeve to glare up at her. "What about him?"

She didn't flinch under the dog's weighty stare. "We can't just -" she cut herself off, a peculiar feeling settling in her stomach. In any other circumstance, she would have been glad for a chance to escape James' company; while she didn't exactly hate him anymore, he still managed to ruffle her feathers in ways that no one else in the world could. But this wasn't like any circumstance she had ever been in before, and James was, unfortunately, the only thing she knew in this world.

Clearing her throat, she looked over at James again and declared, with all the authority she could muster, "We can't leave him here. I won't allow it." She tried to ignore the startled glint in his eyes at the force, the near-absolute conviction, in her voice.

The dog was hardly impressed, but nodded his large head anyway. "As you wish, Your Majesty. Now, _please_ could you hurry? Princess Petunia is going to have all of our guts for garters, namely mine."

* * *

><p>The carriage ride was not unlike the one from Hogsmeade Station to Hogwarts, but there were a considerate amount of mercilessly bumps that jostled the carriage and its travellers so violently, Lily thought she would vomit. It didn't help that this carriage was decidedly smaller than what she was used to and that she was wedged in between James and a talking dog.<p>

Lily tried not to dwell on what lay ahead of them. She might not have been all that fond of his company, but she knew that she had to stick with James, no matter what. He was the only thing in a ridiculous world that she knew, even if she didn't know him very well at all. For some reason, she frowned at the thought, but quickly brushed it off as wistful thinking brought on by their predicament.

As a little girl, Lily had always wanted to be a princess; it was the reason why her parents had given her the book of fairy tales in the first place. She had been captivated by the idea of other worlds filled with dragons and magic and castles and daringly handsome princes, and while she knew that some of those things existed in the world in which she lived, it wasn't the same here.

Now that she was a princess, the idea wasn't nearly as enchanting as it had been when she was young. In fact, it was downright terrifying. Had she entered the situation willingly, she supposed she would have viewed this as an experience opposed to a complete disaster, but she hadn't. And now, she was stuck in a fantasy world called Westerflower with a boy that she didn't quite hate, but didn't quite like either.

She was thrown rather unceremoniously from her thoughts when the carriage hit a particularly large bump and the entire carriage lurched to the side, sending her right into James' lap. Her forehead knocked against his chin and his elbow dug into her ribcage; the black dog laughed joyfully. Grumbling, they started to disentangled their limbs and by the time they got themselves sorted, they had arrived at the castle gates.

Pushing his glasses up his nose, James gazed out the window and whistled in awe. "Whoa," he said, his astonishment clear in both his voice and his face.

"You stole the word right out of my mouth," Lily muttered as she, too, gazed at the castle. From a distance, it had appeared beautiful, but it was only up close that she was able to see the castle for the truly magnificent thing that it was. Not taking her eyes off the tall ivory towers covered with ivy, she asked, with poorly concealed awe, "I live here?"

Behind them, the dog let out a long sigh. "Of course you live here, Princess," he said languidly. "You've lived at Westerhaven Palace for your entire life. Well," the dog added as an afterthought, "except for the winters when your family goes to Summermarsh. Honestly, how many times are we going to do this today?"

But Lily ignored the dog. Instead, she nudged James in the side with her elbow. "Did you hear that, Potter?" she taunted giddily. "I've got two castles! Two!" She gave a squeak of delight before settling back into her seat.

The carriage pulled up to the gates, where two guards armed with pikes stood on alert.

"Out," the dog said suddenly.

"We don't get to go to the castle?" Lily asked, her eyebrows knitting together. _But I'm the princess!_ she wanted to say, but didn't. "But I thought this was my home!"

"You do," the dog said before jerking his head in James' direction. "He doesn't. If anyone of importance finds out that a stable boy was riding in the Royal Carriage, heads will roll. So," he looked pointedly at James, "out."

"But what about the guards?" James questioned, his hand already on the gold encrusted handle.

"I said if anyone of importance finds out." The dog shook his head. "Good Lord, does no one listen to me?"

As the dog grumbled to himself, James cast Lily a look not unlike a look a solider might give his lover before departing for war. It made Lily's breath catch in her throat, though she wasn't quite sure why. Before she had a chance to decipher the odd sensation, he opened the door and jumped down.

When James looked up at her, Lily could see the tension and the hesitancy in his eyes. "I'll see you."

Lily nodded, not trusting her own voice. Call her crazy, but she was almost…worried. Like she would never see him again. She was worried that she wouldn't ever see James Potter again. It was silly, she knew - it wasn't like there were any threats in Westerflower (that she knew of), but still…

The worry dissipated and was replaced by anger as soon as she saw the wry smile on his mouth. Colour rushed to her face as he twiddled his fingers in farewell, his hazel eyes glinting behind his glasses. "Goodbye, Princess!" He dropped his hand down to his side and grinned.

She flipped him off as the carriage bounced towards the castle, leaving a laughing James in its wake.

* * *

><p>AN: Okay, so I realize that this chapter is fairly short - as are the next few - but I promise they get lengthier as the story progresses. Also, I wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and added this story to their alert lists. It means ever so much to me, and I'm lucky to have you as readers. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to drop me a line.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

James' amusement didn't last very long.

In fact, as soon as the carriage was out of sight, he stopped laughing and his smile slipped off his face quicker than melting ice cream on a cone. Something akin to anxiety stirred in the pit of his stomach, and it was a very odd feeling indeed. Normally, James was a stone cold fox in the face of the unknown; it wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that he was a pro when it came to dealing with strange and unusual happenstances. Sure, he had been a little bit on the surprised side when he and Sirius discovered Remus' secret, but he didn't panic.

His reaction was quite the opposite, actually, a mix of childish excitement and the pure, unadulterated thrill of danger.

But this?

This was anything but exciting.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't entirely true. Of course it was exciting, but it wasn't the right sort of exciting that James was accompanied to feeling. No, this was terrified excitement, the kind that made his stomach clench and caused him to sweat; it was the kind of unrest that was oftentimes mistaken for fear.

Still, it was clear to James that this wasn't going to be just another Marauder adventure. It was dangerous here in Westerflower. Even though the magical kingdom (at least he assumed it was magical) seemed perfectly harmless, they didn't know a thing about it. They had no one they could trust, no one to rely on if something went horrifically wrong, which, in all likelihood, something would. He couldn't be stranded in a fairy tale world with Lily Evans and have something_ not_ go wrong.

In fact, this whole thing reeked of trouble.

When the talking dog (which James thought looked suspiciously like his best mate's Animagus form, but quickly dismissed the thought as it was truly preposterous) kicked him out of the carriage, James had played it cool for one reason: Lily. He was positive that if he started panicking that she would have quickly followed suit, which would only stir up a whirlwind of unnecessary drama, which was the very last thing they needed at the moment. Obviously they both had very specific roles to play and if they started to act any more suspicious than they already were, it would only end badly for the pair of them.

James sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face and grimacing at the feel of dirt and grime against his palm. His muscles ached, a combination of the force of impact upon arriving - if that's what one could call getting sucked in a time vortex of a book - in Westerflower and a night spent chasing Moony across the Hogwarts grounds under the moonlight. When he looked at his hands, he saw they were covered in blood, the skin scraped away from the heels of his palms. No wonder why the talking dog had been such an arse to him - he'd probably gotten blood all over the interior of the ruddy carriage. At least he looked his part, though, which was more than Lily could say, dressed in her school uniform.

"OI! You there!"

It didn't take a genius to figure out that the 'you there' was him. His muscles stiffening and his hand instinctively delving into his pocket for his wand, James looked over his shoulder to see a stocky man with red hair and a thick beard marching - well, it was more like limping - towards him, wearing a decidedly unimpressed expression.

"Wot do ye think yer doin', standin' round like tha'?" the man growled as he approached, placing his hands on his hips as he stared at James as though he was stupid. His face was littered with scars, the largest spanning from the top of his left brow to the middle of his gnarled nose, and his eyes were the deepest, most piercing blue James had ever seen. It was unnerving.

Out of habit, James reached up and ruffled his hair, unsure of what to say. So, as he did in the rare instances when he was at a loss for words, he stuttered out an answer. "I - er - I dunno, sir." It wasn't much of a response, but at least it was something.

The man's harsh look turned sceptical. "Ye don't know, eh?" the man repeated, his eyes once again narrowing into a glare of deep loathing. James tried not to flinch; what was it with this place that turned him into such a Nancy? "Well, hows 'bout ye git yer arse back ter the stable, yeah? There be work ter do, Potter."

James nodded his head, trying to hide his confusion as best as he could. Unlike the talking dog, who had heard Lily shout his surname at least a half dozen times, this man knew his name. But how? "R-right, sir."

"And wot's with this 'sir' bullshit? Ye know me name." When James didn't immediately respond, the man cocked his eyebrow. "Ye do remember me name, yeah? Or are ye really as stupid as Remus makes ye out ter be?"

Immediately, James brightened at the sound of his friend's name. "Remus is here?"

"'Course he's here, ye bleeding eejit. Always bin here, hasn' he?" The man gave James an odd look, almost like he knew he wasn't the right James Potter. "Anyway," the man said, "ye best come with me, Potter. Don't wantcha gettin' lost on the way back now, do we?"

"No," James replied, shaking his head. "Don't want that at all."

The man chuckled sharply. "Just don't expect me ter hold yer hand. Wouldn't want ter ruin me reputation."

As the man gave him a harsh clap on the shoulder, James felt the tight coils of tension in his body loosen, but only slightly. Just because the gruff man appeared to be on friendly terms with James didn't mean he would letting his guard down anytime soon. Absolutely not. He wouldn't let it down until he knew that Lily was safe and sound up at the castle.

* * *

><p>As the carriage bounded towards the glistening castle, Lily found herself panicking. She never thought she would regret being separated from Potter - hell, she was happy when the talking dog kicked him at the gates - but now that she was truly alone with a creature of Westerflower, her anxiety was starting to get the better of her. Her palms were sweaty and her head felt dizzy; she needed to get a grip.<p>

"You can calm down, Your Majesty. There's nothing to be nervous about," the dog said as if guessing her thoughts.

She narrowed her eyes at the dog. "I'm not nervous. What makes you think I'm nervous?"

"Your left eye keeps twitching and you haven't stopped bouncing your foot since we got rid of the filth at the gate," observed the dog.

Silently, Lily decided she disliked the dog. He reminded her of someone she knew, someone aside from Potter who could wriggle underneath her skin until she wanted to scream in frustration, but she couldn't put her finger on it. After all, it didn't take much to annoy Lily.

"You have nothing to worry about," the dog said again in an attempt to ease the princess's worries. "It's just tea with your sister."

Apparently, though, this was the last thing he should have said as she whipped her head in his direction and growled, "The same sister you insisted would have my head if I were any later than I already am!"

The dog clucked his tongue, mainly in disapproval at her behaviour. He had heard the young princess was very temperamental today, but he didn't think she would give Princess Petunia a run for her money. Peter was _so_ going to owe him when they got back to the castle.

"Honestly, Your Majesty, that was just a ploy to get you to hurry along. I couldn't very well let the whelp think he could keep Your Royal Highness busy, could I?" The dog chuckled to himself. "No need to encourage delusions of grandeur among the less fortunate."

"The whelp?" Lily repeated.

"Yes, the whelp. You know, the hired help?" When she showed no recognition, the dog rolled his eyes. "The stable boy! Oh, what was his name? Mr Petrol? Perkins?"

"Potter," she spat, more out of annoyance with the dog than at the boy in question. "His name is Potter." In fact, she almost wished Potter was with her right now, if only because she could channel her anger at him. At least he wouldn't talk back. It was instances like these that reminded Lily why she liked cats more than dogs. Bloody insufferable creatures, dogs were, especially the talking sort.

"Right, Potter. Whatever." The dog gave a dismissive flick of his tail. "The boy's name hardly matters, Princess. What _does_ matter is that you're only five minutes late for tea, which means you have at least twenty minutes to look presentable." Again, the dog scanned her appearance, taking in the odd ensemble of a long-sleeved white shirt, a scandalously short skirt, and a curiously long, black robe, all of which were covered in a thick layer of dust. "Again, I must ask you, Your Highness - and I mean this in the kindest way possible - but what the devil are you wearing?"

"Clothes, which is more than you could say," sniffed Lily, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at the animal across from her, who stared back boldly. "If I tell you to shut up, you have to obey me, right?"

The dog gave a disgruntled bark. "Yes."

"Then I command you to shut your bloody gob!"

"Right away, Your Majesty," grumbled the dog, shooting her a dark look as she turned away from him, redirecting her attention out the window.

They were silent for the rest of the ride, which, thankfully, didn't last very long at all. The carriage jerked to a stop in front of a wide staircase that fanned out at the bottom. Twin statues of lions stood at the foot of the steps. Lily's heartbeat increased tenfold. She wasn't afraid, per se, but she wasn't feeling very courageous either. Could she really be expected to be brave in the face of the unknown, especially when she was facing it all by herself?

Lily gulped nervously as one of the footmen approached the door. Now she actually _was _wishing that Potter hadn't left her alone, that he wouldn't have listened to the talking dog and remained by her side, overprotective and overbearing as always, despite the fact she didn't even like him. Naturally, the one time she wanted him around and he wasn't there. Stupid, unreliable git.

Before she could dwell on it any longer, the door was pulled open and the footman was extending a hand towards her, his upper body bent in a bow. "Your Highness," he said in a nasally voice, keeping his eyes on the ground.

Confusion swept through her as she struggled to compose herself. The dog nudged her in the lower back, forcing her to take the man's hand and exit the safety of the carriage. Lily felt exposed without the walls of the carriage surrounding her, though it was the revered stares she received from the people gathered outside that made her feel truly uncomfortable. Of course, as soon as she made eye contact with them, they jumped and lowered their eyes to the ground.

Almost as though they were…_afraid_ of her.

Her stomach twisting, Lily released the footman's hand and wiped her sweaty palm on her skirt. If the footman noticed, he said nothing, merely nodded his head and retreated, his back still bent. She scanned the crowd, searching for anyone who would meet her stare other than the insufferable dog at her side. Just when she thought hope was lost, she found a familiar pair of brown eyes gazing back at her.

"Mary?"

"Your Highness!" Mary said as she made her way towards the front of the crowd, which parted as she walked. As she drew nearer, Lily noticed her features were shrouded with worry, the premature creases at the sides of her mouth more prominent than ever. "Where on earth have you been? We've been worried sick!"

Before Lily could answer, Mary rounded on the dog, her hands flying to her hips. "And you, Sirius! You were supposed to fetch her _in a timely fashion_! Were those not my exact words?"

Lily's eyes widened as the sound of the name. "Sirius?" she parroted, too curious to mask her shock. She swung her gaze towards the black dog, who looked less than pleased. "You're Sirius?"

The talking dog formerly known as Sirius gave an annoyed flick of his eyes before staring up at Mary. "Do you see what I've had to deal with? She's been like this all day long! _You_ try getting her back here in a timely fashion; I don't even know how she got to where I found her."

Mary gave a frustrated 'harrumph' of displeasure. "You shouldn't speak of the princess like that." Her gaze found Lily's again. "Please excuse Sirius' impertinence, he's not normally like this."

Despite herself, Lily laughed mockingly. "Sure he's not. Ruddy prat, he is."

Growling, Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but Mary cut him off. "Come now, Princess Lily, we cannot afford to waste any more time than we already have." She started down the garden path, gesturing for Lily to follow. "Your sister will be most displeased if you arrive later than she."

Lily nearly threw her arms up in frustration. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"Because it's true," commented Mary. "Now come along. We've got to get you into more suitable clothing, especially since the Prince will be there."

Lily stopped walking, causing the dog - Sirius - to slam into her calves and get tangled up in her school robes. As he struggled to free himself, she cocked a brow in Mary's direction. "P-Prince?" she questioned uneasily. "Prince who?"

For what must have been the umpteenth time since arriving in Westerflower, Lily found herself on the receiving end of a stare that clearly questioned her sanity. She was wondering if she should start getting offended or check herself into the nearest asylum as she was beginning to doubt herself. Perhaps Potter was right - maybe this _was_ a delusion. Maybe she was still a seven year old girl flipping through her favorite book whilst sprawled out on the living room floor, legs kicked up and feet swinging back and forth. Maybe she wasn't even a witch. Maybe she had imagined that, too! Maybe this entire thing was just one giant lie, an inventive mess that she created as a way of acting out against her sister's restrictive nature. Maybe -

_No_, Lily thought. _I am a witch. I know I am. Just like I know this is real, even though that's the last thing I want to admit to. _

"Why, the prince of Easterhollow," Mary said in a gentle voice, her expression mirroring her delicate tone.

"And that would be…?"

Blinking, Mary exchanged a look with Sirius, who, once again, rolled his eyes. "I told you, didn't I? I've had to deal with this sort of behaviour all afternoon."

Lily found herself snapping before she could help herself, saying the words that came to her naturally. "Shut up, Sirius!" She tried not to feel too satisfied when his snout immediately snapped shut and he continued ahead on the path, grumbling under his breath. Once he was out of earshot, Lily returned her attention to Mary. "So. The Prince of Easterhollow. Who is he?"

For her part, Mary tried her best to mask her surprise at the princess's beyond bizarre behaviour; it was almost as though she was a completely different person. "It's Prince Severus Snape, of course. Your betrothed." Lily tried not to let all of the colour drain from her face. "Who else would it be?"

She was afraid of that.

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you all so much for your reviews. You've been absolutely stellar, and I'm so glad that you're enjoying this. As it stands, this will be updated once a week until I run out of chapters to post, then I will post as I finish them. I'd really like to hear what you guys think of it all. Is it too slow? Is the humour too forced? Should I give up? Let me know! Thanks again for reading, my lovelies. You're brilliant.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Like a diligent soldier, James followed behind the limping man, who hadn't stopped talking since they had started their trek. He didn't mind in the slightest just as long as the man kept the conversation one-sided and didn't ask him any questions. The moment the questions started was the moment he went to find Lily and they got out of Westerflower as fast as they could. He didn't care how much she enjoyed being a princess - if she wanted to be treated like royalty, he'd lick the dirt off the bottoms of her feet just as soon as they were back in the comfort of the Gryffindor common room, if that was what she wanted.

He tried to listen to what the man said, especially when he glanced over his shoulder at James and said, in a rather suggestive tone, "Eh?" Instead of responding like a normal seventeen-year-old boy would, he simply nodded his head and continued to follow the older man, whose name he had yet to learn. Thankfully, the man was either used to being ignored or didn't particularly care, as he kept jabbering on about Merlin only knows what. Though James was sure whatever the man had to say was interesting (or incredibly boring), he was more concentrated on his surroundings than what the man was saying.

Aside from the old man's chatter, the walk to the stables wasn't entirely unpleasant. In fact, as soon as they passed through a set of thick, wrought iron gates nearly twelve feet tall and James caught sight of the Royal Garden, he thought it was easily one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. The hedges were perfectly manicured, the sprawling green lawn was flawless, and the sheer amount of flowers in bloom made James' eyes water, both from the intensity of their colours and his nasty allergy to pollen. Everywhere he looked, there were blooms of bright blue, deep red, dusty pink, soft yellow, and deep purple.

Suddenly, it became abundantly clear why the kingdom was called Westerflower.

But his favourite blossom, James noted, was strangely absent from the garden.

"Never gets old, this," the old man said, staring at the garden with a certain fondness.

"No," James agreed in an awestruck voice, "it doesn't."

"Beautiful place," murmured the old man, seemingly caught up in a wave of nostalgia. "Right!" he exclaimed suddenly. Or not. He clapped James on the shoulder, snapping him out of his revered stare. "No more time ter waste. We've got work ter do."

Feeling more or less like a child being pulled round Diagon Alley by his mum, James followed the old man, noting that they walked behind the hedges and avoided the garden path. "Is there any reason why we're walking behind shrubbery?"

"Gods, Potter, yer hopeless!" the old man grumbled. "Ye know we're not allowed ter walk in the Royal Gardens."

James frowned. "Why not? Something so beautiful should be appreciated by all."

"Because they're the _Royal_ Gardens, Potter. Why else?" At the sight of James' expression, the man let loose a sarcastic laugh. "So unless yer hiding a tiara that I don't know about in tha' mess o' hair, shut yer gob and follow me," the man said with a sarcastic laugh. "There be no room fer poetry when there's work ter be done."

"Yes," muttered James as he once again followed the man. "I think you've mentioned that several times before." He rolled his eyes to himself, knowing that if Lily ever had a chance to meet this man, they'd get along famously.

It didn't take James very long to figure out that the stables were located in the rear of the castle, just like they were at Hogwarts. The only difference between the Hogwarts stables and the ones of Westerhaven Palace was the amount of activity. Where the ones at Hogwarts hadn't been used in decades, perhaps even a century, the stables of Westerhaven were positively booming with activity as the man and James stumbled upon them. Men and women alike narrowly avoided colliding with one another, evading each other at precisely the right moment, and carrying their respective crates and baskets of laundry to their deemed location.

Aside from the hustle and bustle of the servants, the most noticeable thing about the stables was the smell. The scent of manure, sweat, and good old fashioned hard work was all rolled into one and lingered in the air like his mother's perfume, which smelled of roses. Only unlike his mother's perfume, this was hardly pleasant. Quite the opposite, really; James had to force himself not to cover his nose as he was a stable boy and was supposed to be used to the smell. Even still, he didn't how anyone could get used to this stench, much less work in it.

"There you are, Alastor," came a pleasant sounding voice from somewhere behind them. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd skived off your duties."

The man known as Alastor laughed again, though instead of sounding like the harsh bite of an axe into a fresh log, it was warmer. "Ach, no, I had ter round up Potter, I did," responded Alastor with a shake of his head.

Intrigued, James looked over his shoulder and his eyebrows nearly skyrocketed off of his forehead, so great was his surprise. He knew the voice sounded familiar, but Remus Lupin wasn't the only person in the world with a friendly voice; James would certainly never be able to pick him out of a crowd. Still, it was a shock and a half to see his best friend standing in front of him, kind brown eyes regarding him underneath all of the mussed sandy hair. And wearing a ridiculous jester costume to boot.

Remus smiled in greeting at him; it was the same tired, but warm smile James had found himself on the receiving end a thousand times before. Instantly, he felt comforted. "Hello, James. Having a good day?"

"More like an off day," Alastor mumbled.

Ignoring the remark, James slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "Suppose I can't complain."

"'course ye can't complain," interrupted Alastor, a wry smile on his gnarled face. "Ye got ter ride in the carriage with the princess, didn't ye?"

The colour slipping away from his face, James saw Remus raise his eyebrows in surprise.

"You were in a carriage with the princess?" He managed to sound both impressed and disapproving at the same time. James couldn't help smiling; maybe this Remus wasn't so different from the one he left at Hogwarts. At James' confirming nod, he asked, "What were you doing in there?"

Once again, Alastor interjected before James could respond. "I think ye know what they were doin'." He waggled his eyebrow suggestively.

For some reason, the insinuation that he had been doing less than honourable things in a carriage with Lily sparked his temper. James clenched his fists in time with his jaw. "Nothing happened," he insisted sternly. "I was stranded on the side of the road, the princess saw me, and offered to give me a hand."

"Sure that's not the only thing she gave you," laughed Alastor, nudging a less-than-amused James in the side.

Surprisingly, Remus was the first to respond. "That's no way to talk of the princess, Alastor," he snapped, all but upturning his nose in disgust. "I'm sure if James said nothing happened then nothing happened."

James flashed him a grateful smile, which he returned. A bit of his anxiety ebbed, though his blood still ran hot with anger. It was irrational to be so angry over such a flippant remark, especially since it probably wouldn't have bothered him just a few weeks' ago. But now that they were separated in a strange world, James felt very protective of her, even more so than usual.

"I was only jokin'."

"Joking or not, those are the exact sort of remarks that'll earn you a short drop and a sudden stop," Remus cautioned, once again reminding James every bit of the Remus he knew as one of his best mates.

"Oh, ye take the fun out o' everythin', Remus," Alastor complained as he shuffled towards the stable. "A bit o' a contradiction, if I do say so meself. Yer a jester - yer supposed ter be funny."

_Well_, James thought, surveying the bright red and bold blue of Remus' costume. _That certainly explains his choice in dress._

Remus rolled his eyes in a manner that suggested he had heard this remark more times than he cared to count. "Just mind what you say, will you, Alastor? You don't want to follow the same path Padfoot, do you?"

James blinked. Had he heard right? _Padfoot_? As in his best friend in the entire world, Sirius Black? Did that mean Sirius was here in Westerflower as well? He felt his brow furrow in thought. The way Remus had said the words, all dark and foreboding and with a hint of sadness, gave James the distinct impression that he was very well acquainted with Padfoot, like they were friends. Perhaps even best mates. So if Sirius was in Westerflower and was best friends with Remus, then where was he? What had happened to him?

The amusement fell away rather abruptly from Alastor's face.

"I thought not," sniffed Remus in satisfaction.

"No one wants ter end up like tha'," replied Alastor. He gave a shudder. "Poor bloke."

James frowned, wondering exactly what had happened to Padfoot. However, he knew better than to ask point blank what had occurred as it would probably garner him some very peculiar stares and, worst case scenario, give him away.

"Pity, really," James added in for good measure.

The others hummed in agreement.

"Well," Alastor began after a beat of silence. "It was nice ter see ye, Remus, but we've got a lot o' work ter do before the sun sets. 'specially Potter." He leered at James. "Lots o' stables with yer name on 'em, boyo."

At the thought of shovelling manure, James grimaced, though he supposed things could be a whole lot worse. He could be stuck out on the dirt road without any clue where Lily was and what might be happening to her. At least at the castle he was near to her and, with a little prodding of certain servants, could get information about her. Hell, if he was able to sneak out from underneath Alastor's watchful eye and check out the castle for himself, he could probably talk to her in person. Check up on her, though he doubted that she would like that very much.

Headstrong women - they could be so infuriating.

"Actually, could I borrow James for a moment? That's why I came down here in the first place," Remus confessed, throwing a look at James.

Alastor considered it a moment before nodding. "Fine, but don't ye put any ideas inter his head now. And don't keep him too long - I know how the two o' ye are with yer court gossip." He cackled before tottering into the stable.

Once he was out of earshot, Remus turned towards James, his eyebrows drawn together in apprehension, an expression that James had seen many a time on the boy's prematurely lined face. He motioned for James to lean in closer, which he did after a moment's hesitation.

"Are we still on for tonight?" he whispered, throwing a cautious look over his shoulder, though at what, James wasn't sure.

"Er?" He scratched the back of his neck, his fingers inching towards the hair at the back of his head. Somehow, he resisted. "What's happening tonight?"

Remus expelled a short breath. "I get it. You don't want to continue any longer." He frowned at his hands. "I understand. It must be tedious, trying to teach someone to be something they're not."

Confusion didn't even begin to cover it. Giving into the urge, James raked his fingers through his hair, trying to formulate a response. "What - erm - aren't you again?"

"I hope you're joking," said Remus in a decidedly unamused voice, pinning James with a stare of the same calibre. As James stared back at him blankly, struggling to find something, anything, to say to the poor boy in front of him, something shifted in Remus' features. A smile wormed its way onto his face. "This is a test, isn't it? A joke. To see if I'm picking up on subtle humour, right?"

James shrugged. Might as well play along. "Er - yes!" He pointed at Remus, smiling. "That's exactly what this is. A test."

Remus broke out into a grin, all but punching the air in excitement. "Really? And how did I do? No, wait!" he exclaimed as soon as James opened his mouth. "Don't tell me now. Tell me later during our lesson. Will you be done with your duties by eleven?"

"Sweet mother of Merlin, I hope so," sighed James, casting a forlorn look at the stables.

A barely noticeable furrow appeared in Remus' brow and he looked as though he was about to question James' word choice, but he shook his head and smiled. "Okay, brilliant. See you then, chap." He clapped James on the shoulder then turned on his heels, heading back into the castle, though this time, there was a notable spring in his step.

With a long-suffering groan, James turned to face his doom.

* * *

><p>"Couldn't you just tell them that I've become suddenly and violently ill?" Lily suggested as she pulled the off-white slip over her head and tugged it down her chest; it pooled to the stone floor, covering up her dark blue slippers.<p>

"I've told you once and I'll tell you again, Princess, you have to go," Mary said with a note of impatience colouring her tone.

"I'm a princess - I don't _have_ to do anything." Lily knew she sounded like the spoiled brat she probably was in this world, but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to see her sister or Severus; not in this world or in her own.

"Unfortunately, you do," Mary countered. "Your parents left Princess Petunia in charge when they went on holiday and she demands your presence at this afternoon's tea. And you know how she gets when you disobey her, Lily."

Lily grimaced, knowing exactly how Petunia acted when her words were ignored: Her temper tantrums could rival a four year old's. Expelling a small sigh, Lily picked up the dark blue dress draped over the side of the screen. It felt itchy against her fingertips. "Do I have to wear _this_ particular dress, though? It's -"

"-completely hideous?" supplied Mary.

She laughed, popping her head round the screen. "Well, yes. And there are so many laces up the back," she continued, running her fingers over the tiny gold loops. "It'll take hours to get into…" she trailed off, sending a hopeful look in Mary's direction.

"I know what you're insinuating and no, you can't. Your sister expressly told me that you must wear this dress as blue is Prince Snape's favourite colour."

"No, it's not. It's green," Lily corrected automatically.

Mary raised an eyebrow. "You know his favourite colour?"

A blush spilled onto Lily's cheeks. "N-no. I just _assumed_ it was as he - er - wears green tunics all the time."

Though she didn't look convinced, Mary nodded. "Right, well, I think you have a green dress in your wardrobe. Shall I check for you?" She moved towards the massive wardrobe in the corner of the room, but Lily stopped her.

"No! I mean, it's just that -" she paused to wet her lips "-well, this is the dress Tuney wants me to wear and I don't want to upset her any further than I undoubtedly already have. How late am I again?"

"Nearly thirty minutes."

She winced appreciatively. "Exactly. So let's not upset my sister any further," she said with a nod. "Now come over here and help me with this dress; it's certainly not going to lace itself."

While Mary laced Lily into her dress, the redhead hastily pulled a brush through her hair, hoping to tame her wild tresses. Several twigs and quite a few leaves tumbled to the floor as she worked out the tangles. It took Mary only minutes to finish lacing up the dress, thanks to her incredibly nimble fingers.

"Here," she said, hurrying over to the dressing table and lifting a golden circlet from its pillow. "You'll need this." Pushing herself onto her tiptoes, Mary placed the circlet upon Lily's brow and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"Well?" Lily prompted, giving a little twirl. Suddenly, she felt like a five year old, modelling a dress for her mother in the sitting room. "How do I look?"

Mary studied her for several seconds before shrugging. "You've looked better, but it'll do."

Lily scoffed in mock-offence and Mary grinned.

"Come now, we must hurry. I can only imagine the state your sister's in."

* * *

><p>"<em>Where<em> have _you_ _been_?"

As she entered the room, Lily held back a shudder at the sound of her sister's shrill voice. She raised her gaze to her sister and saw that she was unchanged - her hair was still blonde, she was still ridiculously thin and quite horse-like, and she was wearing a rather displeased expression. The only difference between this Petunia and her sister was that she was actually wearing the crown she so often pretended to have.

"I'm sorry to have kept you so long, Tuney - I mean, Petunia," she corrected, doubting that her sister would like to be addressed by the nickname in public. Judging by the dark look that crossed her sharp features, Lily was correct. "There was a minor wardrobe malfunction."

Petunia pursed her lips. "I'm sure there was." She walked round the table to stand in front of Lily. "Luckily for you, we won't be having tea with Prince Severus this afternoon."

"What?" she demanded, temper flaring to life at once. "Why not?"

"On their journey here, the travelling party was attacked."

"Attacked? By what? A giant butterfly?"

"That's not funny, Lily," snapped Petunia, her expression thunderous. "Not funny in the slightest." She pulled on the bodice of her stiff gown as she glared down her long nose at Lily. "I would've thought you would be more concerned, considering."

Lily frowned. "Considering what?"

"Sirius warned me about this," Petunia mumbled with a shake of her head. "Have you been in the wine reserve in the cellar again?"

"What? No, of course I haven't," she said, her impatience with her sister already wearing thin. They had only been in the same room together for five minutes! "Why would you even suggest that?"

"As if I need to remind you of your behaviour today," remarked Petunia, sending one of her condescending looks in Lily's direction.

Lily gritted her teeth. She hated that face, having been on the receiving end ever since she was three and Petunia five.

"If you must know," Petunia continued, walking back to the table set for three and resuming her seat. "Severus is all right; he wasn't hurt in the attack, but some of his servants were."

"Oh." Lily fidgeted with her hands, unsure of how she should react to the news. Her sister's earlier comment bothered her - what was so peculiar about their relationship? Was he an extended member of their family? Did their relationship in Westerflower represent the could-have-been in the real world?

She gave herself a mental shake. Now was not the time to contemplate the issue - she could do that later in her chambers.

"That's a relief," she said.

"Well I should hope so," Petunia laughed, a sharp, bitter sound that made Lily uneasy, "seeing as how if he was mortally wounded, you would be a widow before you were even married."

* * *

><p>AN: What will happen next? Stay tuned to find out! Thanks for reading and to every one of you special people who reviews me! I've got so much love for you. XOXO.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

As Petunia chattered away about some court scandal or another, Lily looked over at Mary, who stood in the corner next to her sister's maid, and gave a little wave, hoping the blonde girl would spot the movement. Thankfully, Mary was extremely perceptive and she paused in her quiet talk with the other maid and hurried over to Lily. Petunia was so caught up with her story that she didn't even notice.

Mary knelt down beside Lily's chair. "What do you require, Your Highness?" she asked softly, sending a cautious look in Petunia's direction.

"I need you to find someone for me," replied Lily, her voice just as low. "He's a stable boy, and he's called Mr Potter."

Almost as soon as the name left her lips, Mary's eyebrows rose. "You mean James Potter?" At Lily's confirming nod, she frowned. "What do you want with him?"

"There's a matter of -er - utmost importance that I must speak to him about."

Mary paled, thinking about the gossip she'd just heard from Marietta. "You're not dismissing him, are you?"

"Dismissing him? Of course not!" Her voice climbed in volume and Lily cut her eyes over to Petunia, but still, the elder girl chattered away about the Duchess of Rosemary's affair with Lord Saffron of Spice Valley. "Why would I dismiss him?"

Mary made sure that Princess Petunia was thoroughly distracted before she said, "Because of what happened this afternoon."

"Nothing happened," Lily said.

The look she received from Mary was full of scepticism. "This isn't the first time you've been caught in a carriage with a - well - a handsome young man who was most definitely _not_ your betrothed," whispered Mary.

This time it was Lily who paled, though she tried her best to keep her composure. "Just find him for me, will you, Mary?"

"Of course I will, Your Majesty." The blonde bowed her head in acquiescence and retreated.

Before she could get too far away, Lily grabbed her by the wrist and hissed, "And be discreet about it! I don't want anyone getting any ideas."

There was a knowing glimmer in Mary's eyes as she nodded and backed out of the tea room, the soft click of the door barely registering through the room. Coincidentally, it was the softest of noises, not the poorly whispered conversation, that made Petunia pause in the middle of her story and frown.

"What on Earth was that?"

"A bird hit the window!"

"Oh…okay…well, then Lady Saffron told him just where he could shove those silver candlesticks…"

* * *

><p>With an almighty sigh, James backed into the wall and slid down to the floor, every muscle in his body screaming in protest: His arms were rubber, his legs little more than jelly; there were thick ropes of tension coiled in his neck and his shoulder; his back ached with a hurt that was vaguely reminiscent of being nailed with a Bludger; his head felt like a hippogriff had sat on it. His entire body was covered in a fine layer of sweat and when he lifted a hand to wipe the sweat away from his face, his bicep burned fiercely at the effort. As soon as his blistered hand touched his glistening forehead, James winced; the salt from his sweat stung the red, raw wounds.<p>

"Fuck," he hissed through gritted teeth, clenching his hand in hopes of dulling the pain. It wasn't the worst pain he had ever felt in his life, but it wasn't exactly pleasant, especially when coupled with the overall ache of his entire being. Seriously, muscles he didn't even know existed twinged with the strain of a hard day's work, which, James was unashamed to admit, he had never done in his life.

When Alastor had passed him a pitchfork and told him to muck out the stables, James had thought it would be a relatively easy task. All he had to do was clear away the soiled hay and replace it with new hay. It wasn't difficult work and James had finished within twenty minutes. Thinking he had finished for the day, he'd reported back to Alastor, only to have his parade rained on.

Very, very thoroughly.

"Ye didn' think ye'd only git one job terday, did ye?" Alastor had laughed rather cruelly at the shocked look on James' face.

"Well…"

"Yer ridiculous, boyo," the older man had said with a shake of his head. "Ye've only finished with one stall! There be fourteen others ter clean, then ye hafta lead the horses through their exercises, and then ye've got ter take Princess Lily's mare ter the smithy's ter git reshoed."

Make that torrential rain.

James had stared at Alastor in utter incredulity. "Oh," he'd begun loftily, his muscles already cringing in anticipation. "Is that all?"

Again, Alastor had thrown his head back and laughed mockingly. "'Course not. Frank didn' turn up terday, so ye git his duties, too."

Before James had been able to reply in outrage, Alastor had turned his back and hobbled off in the opposite direction, his shoulders visibly shaking with mirth. James had narrowed his eyes, inwardly declaring his hatred for the man.

Seven hours later, James still hated him, perhaps more so than he had at the start of his duties.

The mucking wouldn't have been so bad had it not been for the blisters on his hands. Even though he wore gloves, they were old gloves and worn through so much that by the eighth stall, the fabric had torn and his palms and fingers were cracked and bleeding, a slow trickle of blood seeping into the sleeve of his shirt. James had tried to mend the wound with a spell, but he came upon the most unfortunate discovery: Magic didn't work in Westerflower.

At all.

His stomach sinking and his back aching, James had returned to his work (making a mental note to tell Lily about the no magic thing) and, with a grimace, completed all of his duties. Walking the horses through their training exercises shouldn't have been hard, but it had been extremely difficult, considering the closest he had ever been to a horse was an unicorn, which had tried to spear him with its horn when he'd mimed something less than appropriate to a guffawing Sirius, and he hadn't the slightest idea what to do. Thankfully, Frank, a tall blonde man with a pleasant demeanour despite his burliness, had decided to show up (with a fierce hangover) after all and took charge of the situation while James played assistant.

The only duty that hadn't exhausted James was walking Lily's mare to the smithy's. In fact, it had been a downright relaxing stroll through the streets of Westerflower's capital city, minus the fact he'd stepped in horse shit more times than any person should ever have to in their life and had to run out of the smithy's after the intimidating man had caught him staring at his daughter's considerable cleavage. At least the mare had cooperated with him, though.

Now, James was relishing in what he thought was a well-deserved self-pity party. Tipping his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes and tried not to focus on the pain. While he was certainly no stranger to pain, the other injuries he'd been dealt over the years were just that - injuries, most of which were the result of something particularly foolish and entirely accidental.

This was different. Even though his entire body hurt, he felt oddly proud of himself because, for once, it wasn't an accident, it wasn't an injury. It was just pain. Granted, a whole lot of it, but there you have it.

Before he could congratulate himself, a sharp, hissing voice punctuated his thought process.

"Potter!"

His eyes snapping open, James sprang to his feet as sprightly as his aching body would allow, which wasn't very sprightly at all. He might as well have been an old man trying to push himself out of his favourite armchair that had miraculously moulded around his arse.

"Lily?" questioned James as he swivelled his eyes about the stable. He saw no one, not even Alastor, who had been lurking in his peripheral for the majority of the day.

"Lily? What? No! I'm not Lily!" the girl said, the sharp edge giving way to incredulity. "And that's Princess Lily to you, James!"

James rolled his eyes. He should've guessed that Lily would send one of her minions after him rather than fetching him herself. "Er, right. Sorry. I forget - hey, wait a minute!" he exclaimed, his brow furrowed. "How d'you know my name?"

"It's me, you idiot. Of course I know your name."

Leave it to Lily to pick the most brazen servant to come and find him, though he supposed that, given his position in the castle, he would know the girl addressing him; she certainly sounded like she knew him. Perhaps they were even friends. Inwardly, James cursed - if he continued like this, he would be ousted for the fraud he was before he even had his dinner. And his stomach was being clawed apart by the talons on hunger.

"And you would be?" he hedged.

"Oh, for goodness sakes!" the girl exclaimed, and James imagined her throwing up her hands in frustration. "First Her Royal Highness and now you?" He heard her cluck her tongue in disapproval. "Honestly, there must be something in the water!"

"I'll say," muttered James as his hand jumped towards his hair to muss it up as he was prone to do in uncomfortably awkward situations like this one. "Would you mind, you know, coming out from wherever you're hiding so I can see you? I don't like talking to thin air."

"No, you only enjoy blowing hot air," teased the girl. She even snickered at her own joke.

James gnashed his teeth. If she kept it up, she would be joining Alastor on his black list.

"But I digress," the girl continued, mirth still tickling her voice. "The princess sent me here to tell you that she needs to talk to you."

His eyebrows rose in surprise, which he tried to keep out of his voice. "To me?" he repeated, dumbfounded. "Why would Lily - I mean, why would the princess want to talk to me?"

"To be honest, I haven't the slightest idea, James," the girl confessed. "And no, I can't come out; the princess told me to be discreet and that means remaining in the shadows."

"Er - okay."

She ploughed on as though he hadn't interrupted her. "Princess Lily requests that you meet her in the Rose Garden at precisely half eleven this evening. And not a minute later," she tacked on.

"Did she say why?"

"No, only that it was extremely important that you meet her there." If he didn't know any better, James would have thought Lily's maid sounded rather disapproving of her lady's actions. "And please, James, for both of our sakes, do Inot/I keep the princess waiting. She's had a rough day and…well, suffice to say, she's in a right foul mood."

This didn't surprised James at all: Lily had been in a strop for as long as he had known her and she always blamed him for it. Though he would never admit it out loud, perhaps there was some truth in Lily's accusations. But only a little.

"Right, well, I must be going," said the girl. "What shall I tell the princess?" There was a pleading note in her voice that made him feel almost sorry for her. Evidently, she knew the extent of Lily's temper just as well as he did.

Without hesitation, James nodded, despite the fact the girl couldn't see him. "Yes. Rose Garden at half eleven; I'll be there."

The girl laughed. "It's not like you had much of a choice anyway, but still, it's nice that you're cooperating. I'll see you later, James."

"See you, Mary," James replied automatically before his eyes widened to roughly the size of saucers. He could hardly tell his left from his right, much less one girl's voice from another's. Unless it was Lily, of course; he could spot her voice from anywhere. So how he had known it was Mary left him a little more than dumbfounded, but before he could contemplate the issue any further, a bell sounded in the distance.

Alastor's voice echoed across the stables. "Dinner time!"

His stomach purring with happiness, James left the stable, though the smell of it remained with him.

* * *

><p>By the time she escaped her sister's clutches, it was nearly ten thirty in the evening. Following their tea, Petunia had insisted they take a walk around the Royal Gardens together to "catch up" on gossip, as if she hadn't been gossiping the entire time. Lily had frozen, thinking that Sirius had told her sister about Potter and that she was going to be reprimanded for it; after all, Mary had said their parents had left Petunia in charge.<p>

Following their walk in the Royal Gardens, Lily had wanted to leave her sister's company, only to discover it was time for dinner. Which, as it turns out, was a very lavish, involved affair. The moment she'd stepped into the castle, Lily had been whisked away to her rooms, where she was unceremoniously stripped by two maids and then shoved into a gown of deep purple taffeta with beautiful embroidery before being pushed out of the door for dinner, which, as expected, was another boring affair consisting of court gossip and little else.

The only saving grace of the evening had been when Mary had slipped into the dining hall, which was not unlike the Great Hall at Hogwarts, and hurried to Lily's side.

"Well?" she'd pressed, her eyes searching the blonde's face.

"He will meet you," the other had replied, a small, albeit cautious smile on her face.

And that was how Lily found herself slipping out of the castle and hurrying towards the Rose Garden, the most secluded of the five Flower Gardens, at nearly eleven o'clock, still in her dinner dress. As stunning as the dress was, it was also very heavy and she was sweating in it. A part of her wished she would've taken the time to change into something more comfortable; Potter wasn't going to be on time anyway - he was anything but punctual and he'd probably keep her waiting anyway.

The thought had barely left her head when she saw him sitting on one of the benches, bent over his knees with his hands buried in his hair; he looked tired. Exhausted, even. If it hadn't been for his messy locks, she wouldn't have been able to tell it was him, but even with his head bent and his fingers twined through his hair, there was no mistaken Potter.

She tried to hide her surprise as she approached. "Potter," she said as a way of greeting.

James dropped his hands and looked up at the sound of her voice. His eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of her in her dress; he had to swallow before he spoke. "Evans," he returned with a pleasant smile, though there was no mistaking the hitch in his voice.

Trying not to be too pleased, Lily reminded herself of why she had asked him to meet her in the first place. "This isn't a romantic rendezvous," she blurted.

James jumped to his feet, holding up his hands. "I never said it was!"

"I know you didn't," Lily said hurriedly, glad that it was dark and Potter couldn't see her blush. She squared her shoulders and stared at him with her best authority face. "But I wanted to make that clear. The only reason why I asked you to meet me is because -"

"We need to talk," James finished with an impatient nod of his head.

"Yes," Lily said. "Look, we have a huge problem."

"You mean aside from being stuck in a fairy tale realm?"

"Potter!" She pinched her nose. "Do you always have to state the obvious?"

"Only when you make it so easy," he replied.

She resisted the urge to stomp on his foot. "As I was saying," she said through gritted teeth. "We have a problem."

"Yes," James agreed, his demeanour suddenly grave. "We do."

Lily's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "You know about my betrothal?" she asked, hands flying to her hips. "Who told you?"

"Betrothal?" James repeated, sounding as confused as Lily felt. "What betrothal? Who are you betrothed to?"

"Will you keep your voice down?" she growled, shooting him a warning glare.

"How do you expect me to keep my voice down when you tell me that you're betrothed?" James questioned. Immediately, he began to pace. He expelled an impatient breath as his hand leapt to his hair, mussing up the locks even further.

"I don't understand why you've got your knickers in such a twist," Lily said as she watched him pace in front of her. "You're not the one marrying Snape."

She knew as soon as the words left her mouth that she shouldn't have said them. James rounded on her, his eyes huge and his face a mask of utmost shock. "_Snape_?" he spat venomously. "You're marrying _Snape_?"

"It's not like it's my choice!" Lily exclaimed, taking an angry step towards him. "I don't _want_ to marry him!"

"Good! You shouldn't!" James shouted back. "He's a slimy git."

Ignoring the insult against her once-friend (and quelling the odd urge to laugh), Lily pinned him with a studious stare. "I think it's safe for me to assume that your discovery was not of my engagement to Snape then, was it?"

"No," he dismissed with a shake of his head. "It wasn't that."

"Then what was it?" she asked as she absentmindedly fiddled with the sleeve of her gown. "It can't be worse than finding out you've got Snape as a fiancé."

When she saw his expression shift from one of surprise to uncertainty, Lily's stomach hardened. She didn't like seeing that look on Potter's face; it looked out of place. Unnatural. It made her terrified of his response.

Lily cleared her throat. "Potter?" she pressed gently, unsure if she should touch him to draw him out of his thoughts.

The sound of her voice seemed to be enough to jolt him from his silence. The tension didn't leave his shoulders, but he did rake his fingers through his hair, which Lily had only recently discovered was a nervous habit of his. "You're not going to like it," he said cautiously.

Lily laughed sharply. "Like I said, I'm sure it's not any worse than knowing you're going to have play wife to Severus Snape."

There was something about the way he arched his eyebrow in challenge that made Lily uneasy. She was expecting bad news, something like Sirius had told Petunia about their carriage ride and Potter was getting in trouble for it or, worst yet, Ishe/I was getting punished for it. Whatever she was expecting, it certainly wasn't Potter's next words:

"Magic doesn't work here."

"What?" She gave a disbelieving shake of her head. "What do you mean, magic doesn't work here?"

"I tried to perform a Healing Charm this morning when I injured my hand and it didn't work." When he held up his hand, Lily was surprised to see there was a white cloth wrapped around his palm, the middle of it stained with red. How odd; she hadn't noticed that before.

Still, she didn't want to believe what he said, what she saw before her. "Are you sure you did the spell right?" she asked, stepping forwards and taking his hand within her grasp. She tried to ignore the slight pool of warmth gathering in her stomach as she inspected the bandage, running her finger along its raised edge and wincing at the blisters on his knuckles. "I know Charms isn't your best subject and Healing Spells Iare/I difficult…"

"It didn't work, Lily. I tried multiple spells at least a dozen times a piece and nothing worked." He frowned down at his hand, watching as she looked over her hand. "We can't do magic."

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry it was a little late this week. I had some family drama that took precedence, but here it is! Hope you liked it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Wrapping her knuckles on the door, Mary waited for permission to enter, but none came. It was early in the morning; dawn had only just broken, but the serving girl had already been awake for hours - or at least it seemed like it had been hours. There was hardly any rest for a maid in the royal palace, especially one who was the personal maid of the crowned princess. _A very spoiled crowned princess_, she thought to herself, without malice. She knocked on the door again, but received no response. Frowning, Mary opened the door, knowing that her lady wouldn't get too upset about the intrusion. Spoiled though the princess was, at least she had a good heart and was kind, almost exceedingly so.

The thick drapes had been pulled over the windows - no doubt by the princess herself - so the room was shrouded in darkness, save for the embers still glowing softly in the hearth. As Mary quietly pulled the door shut behind her, she noticed that the bedclothes were rumpled, though the bed did not look slept in. The frown on her face deepened; she'd hoped that Lily hadn't spent the entire night with James, but knowing the princess...

She tip-toed over to the bed and sure enough, it was empty. The blankets had been tossed aside and nearly all of the pillows were on the floor, which wasn't unusual. The princess may have slept like the dead, but she flailed in her sleep more than anyone else Mary had ever known. She placed a hand on the mattress and was unsurprised to discover that the bed was cold. She pursed her lips, her eyes drifting over to the balcony. The princess had a habit of rising before dawn to watch the sunrise, so perhaps she was leaning against the balustrade, daydreaming about her impending nuptials instead of snoring away in a stack of hay with the penniless stable boy, but Mary knew all too well of Princess Lily's soft spot for the underprivileged and her penchant for rebelling against her parents' wishes.

A small sigh escaped Mary - she _really_ hoped that Lily was standing on the balcony; a scandal was the very last thing the princess needed, especially with so few days remaining until her wedding.

"My Lady?" she called out cautiously, keeping her voice low as she pushed aside one of the thick drapes to open the door outside. The handle turned under the weight of her hand, which meant it hadn't been locked, which meant that perhaps her anxiety would be for nothing and the princess would be standing outside on the balcony.

Mary had to shield her eyes from the bright burst of sunlight, it was so bright. "Princess?" she tried again, her sight stolen from her by the light. "Are you out here?"

"Yeah," came the bored voice of the crowned princess. "I'm here."

Another breath of relief fell from Mary's lips as she blinked away the white spots from her vision. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought-" she stopped herself, remembering her tongue. She had no right to criticise her lady. Who was she but a princess' maid?

Lily wasn't leaning against the balustrade, but she was sitting on it; her back was resting against the side of the castle, her knees drawn up to her chest. There was a soft furrow in her brow, almost as though she had been deep in thought before Mary had interrupted her. Immediately, Mary bowed her head. "I'm sorry, My Lady. I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"You didn't interrupt," Lily said, staring down at her bare feet. She was wearing her night dress, a simple white gown that stopped just below her knees. Her calves were exposed, which made Mary feel a bit uncomfortable. "I was just thinking."

"I know," said Mary, a bit sheepish, "but you looked like you were contemplating something, and I know I don't like to be interrupted when I'm contemplating, so please, if you will, Princess, forgive me."

"You're forgiven." Lily smiled softly at Mary, her head tilted to the side as she observed her maid. "Even though you didn't do anything wrong," she added, her small smile turning into one of amusement.

They stood in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Mary mustered the courage to ask, "Is there something bothering you, princess?"

"No," Lily responded, a little too quickly for either girl's liking. "I mean, I'm fine, just a little tired." At Mary's inquisitive look, she continued, "I didn't sleep very well last night." To further convince her, Lily yawned dramatically, arching her back and stretching her arms over her head. If Mary didn't buy it, she didn't say anything.

"Well, I did notice the bedclothes were rumpled," supplied Mary, with a small shrug of her petite shoulders. "Would you like for me to fetch the court physician? He could brew you a nice sleeping draught."

Lily's eyebrows rose slightly. "A sleeping draught? Someone knows how to brew potions?"

Mary tried not to laugh too much at the hopeful expression on the princess' face - or the awestruck note in her voice. "I wouldn't call it a potion, but yes, the physician is more than capable of brewing a satisfactory sleeping draught." At this, Mary frowned. "I thought you would've known that, seeing as how you've taken it several times before…"

Lily didn't like the penetrating look she received from Mary; it was almost like the girl knew there was something off about her. Of course, there _was _something wrong with her as she wasn't the real princess, but that wasn't the point. She had to remember to keep herself in check, to not act surprised when she found out certain information. Sirius the talking dog was already on to her, she didn't need her maid questioning her actions, too, but it was turning out to be more difficult than she had initially perceived.

"Oh yes," Lily said as if something had suddenly dawned upon her. "I remember now. I guess his draughts were indeed satisfactory, seeing as how I can't remember the nights I drank them." She laughed a very fake laugh, but the intensity of Mary's stare eased, her features became more relaxed.

"Yes, they are quite strong," Mary agreed, with a small smile. "Shall I make a trip down to his rooms today to acquire some for you, My Lady?"

"No," Lily replied, scooting away from the wall and swinging her legs over the balustrade. She slipped down from her perch. "I can get it myself. Besides," she added when she saw Mary's expression, "you have a lot of other things to do today."

At the unnecessary reminder of her duties, Mary pulled a face, which made Lily laugh. "Now," she said, breezing her way past her maid and slipping into her chambers. "I believe I have a breakfast to get ready for."

"You do," Mary nodded. "And your sister asked if you do something with your hair; she didn't like to see it free yesterday. She said it made you look like a - a scarlet woman."

Throwing her head back, Lily laughed, loud and hard, as she stepped behind the changing screen and slipped off her dress. Mary smiled at the sound. It was a rare sound nowadays.

* * *

><p>If James thought his muscles ached last night, it was nothing compared to how he felt when he woke up in the morning. However, he was barely able to blink the sleep out of his eyes before a pitchfork was shoved into his hands and he was instructed to muck out the stables yet again.<p>

"And don't take forever," advised Alastor as he backed out the stables. "Yer've got ter prepare fer the prince's arrival."

James raised his eyebrows. "The prince is coming today?"

"Ach, no," Alastor dismissed with a shake of his head. "He'll be here tomorrow evening, but tha' doesn't mean ye can slack off!"

Grimacing at his retreating figure, James set to work, mentally preparing himself for the inevitable pain that would only grow worse as the day progressed.

He finished mucking out the stables before midday and was on his way to collect the grooming supplies from a young lad named Stephen when he ran into a solid form.

"Oh, sorry," he said dismissively as he pushed himself to his feet and wiped the dirt away from his tunic. "Are you all - oh," he stopped himself at the sight of a familiar face. "Hello, Remus."

Remus glared at him, which caught him off guard. "James," he ground out, his voice even harder than his eyes.

Immediately, James frowned. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I don't know. Did you?" Remus said evenly, though his placement of his hands on his hips gave him away.

"Okay, so I did do something wrong."

"How do you -"

"I can tell by the way you're acting. You always get passive-aggressive-y when you're angry, Remus," commented James. "So why don't you tell me so I can apologise for it?"

Remus gave a dry chuckle. "Where would you like me to begin, James? The part where you bumped into me and apologised insincerely or the part where you forgot about our lesson?"

As soon as the words left Remus' lips, James smacked a palm to his forehead. "Oh, Merlin, Moony, I'm so sorry," he said in a rush, not even taking into consideration the fact he might not be on such friendly terms with Remus or that Remus even had a nickname here. There were so many technicalities that he was sure his head would explode by the end of it all - or his forgetfulness would earn him and Lily a short drop and a sudden stop, a nauseating thought it there ever was one. "I didn't mean to forget, honest. It's just that -"

"It's always just something, James," Remus interrupted, sounding more resigned than angry.

"But this time it was really important!"

"So making a promise to help me out isn't important anymore?"

"What? No! Of course not!" James sputtered, feeling simultaneously guilty and flustered. "I mean, not like that!" he exclaimed at the sight of Remus' thunderous expression. "I meant that it _is_ important to me - of course it is, you're my best friend…right? We're best friends?"

"I don't know if we are at the moment, but yes," Remus said coldly, his confirming nod unusually stiff. "I guess we are."

"So if we're best friends," James began, silently thanking whatever deity was worshipped in Westerflower for letting him catch such a break, "you'll let me explain myself then? Because you know I wouldn't break a promise without a good reason."

Remus regarded him silently for a few moments, his eyes still narrowed, though there wasn't a fire in them, only resignation. Inwardly, James grinned; pleading speeches always worked on Remus. "All right, fine," sighed the blonde boy. "You've got three minutes to explain yourself."

James unleashed his grin. "Brilliant. Anyway, the reason why I failed to show up last night - and notice I didn't say the reason why I broke my promise because, well, I didn't, not intentionally - was because the princess - as in Princess Lily, not Princess Petunia; she's a hag and a half and I don't care who hears it - wanted to speak with me in the Rose Garden about a matter of utmost importance."

By the time he finished, he was out of breath, and therefore heaved the hugest sigh of his life. He even had to put a hand to his side due to the switch residing there.

And then Remus laughed in his face. "You expect me to believe that rubbish?"

"Um, yes?"

Remus doubled over, slapping his thigh as he all but cackled at the blue-grey sky. "Honestly, James," he said after he'd calmed down, though his laughter tickled his voice. "Why don't you just tell me the truth?"

Again, James frowned. "But that is the truth. Why would I make something like that up? Just yesterday, you said you believed me when I said nothing had gone on between myself and Lily - I mean, _Princess_ Lily - in the carriage."

"Oh that? I only said that because I didn't want Alastor to get in trouble for speaking ill of the princess," answered Remus harshly, though there was no anger to his words. "What? You really thought I believed your story?" He snorted. "That's rich, mate. I don't even think you were in the carriage with the princess, just some female member of the nobility that, for some unknown reason, seem to be inescapably attracted to you."

"Wait," James said, holding up his hands to stop Remus' tirade. "I've been involved with the nobility before?"

Remus tried and failed to maintain a serious expression, but only succeeded in laughing even harder than he had been before. Now, he was drawing stares and not only from the servants of Westerhaven Castle.

"If I didn't know any better," Remus said after he drew a deep breath, a hand clasped to his side, which ached from laughing so hard. "I wouldn't even think you're my best mate, but some man from an alternate universe who's replaced him, but we both know _that's_ ridiculous."

James made sure to school his features into a mask of amusement instead of one of shock. "Ha ha, yeah," he chuckled nervously, itching the side of his neck like he always did when he was feeling particularly anxious. "That's so ridiculous."

"But really, why'd you abandon me in my hour of need?" Remus questioned, suddenly serious again. "And don't say anything about covert meetings with the crowned princess."

Releasing a soft sigh, James pushed a hand through his hair and struggled to come up with a lie that wasn't too elaborate or involved anyone he knew in the castle - which surmounted to a grand total of three people: Lily, Petunia (though he hadn't actually met her), and Mary. "I cut my hand," said James, holding up the offending, bandage hand.

This seemed to be enough for Remus, whose eyes widened as the sight of the bandage. "Oh my God, James, that looks bad. How'd you do it?"

Now that Remus believed him, it was easier for James to lie. It was weird, but it had always been that way: if Moony was convinced, then just about anyone would be - except McGonagall. She could sniff out a lie better than a niffler could gold. He launched into the story of his encounter at the smithy's, though he added a considerate amount to the story, so while it contained some truth, there was only a little.

By the end of it, Remus was in stitches again, though this time his laughter was pleasant, less scathing. "Oh, mate," he said, clapping James on the shoulder. "I swear, you have the worst luck with women. That's almost as hilarious as the incident with Lord Oregano's daughter."

Though he had no clue what Moony was on about, James laughed, happy to be on his friend's good graces again. It was always so hard to be on the outs with one of his fellow Marauders - even if they weren't technically the Marauders here. "Now, how about I make up for being such a horrid friend and give you a lesson?"

Remus' eyes brightened. "Really? Now?" His gaze dimmed in brilliance as he regarded James. "Don't you have duties to do?"

"Nope," James lied through his teeth, which flashed stunningly when he smiled at Remus. "I've just finished them. Alastor said I had the afternoon to myself, which I am now dedicating to you." He poked Remus in the chest to add emphasis.

Remus beamed. "Brilliant."

"So," James said as they headed back towards the stables, where he thought would be the best place to partake in these "funny lessons" as it was secluded from sight and if Alastor interrupted, all he had to do was grab a pitchfork and pretend his side was alight with flames. "What do you want to learn first?"

"Can we continue the juggling lesson?" Remus asked. "I think I'm starting to get the hang of it."

His smile fumbled, but only slightly; he was complete rubbish at juggling. "Sure, Moons, whatever you want."

* * *

><p>A plate slammed into the wall and promptly shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, making the innkeeper's daughter give a small shriek of terror.<p>

"I told you _no green vegetables_!" shrieked the Crowned Prince of Easterhollow and Her Surrounding Territories, Severus Snape. "How hard is that to understand?"

"I-I'm sorry, Your Highness," the girl squeaked, her blue eyes welling with tears.

"Oh, you're sorry? _Sorry? _You think an apology is going to make this better?" he seethed through clenched teeth, jabbing a finger at the mess on the floor. "I'm hungry, and now there's a mess on the floor!"

The girl chewed her lip, wishing her father would return from his business at the apothecary and handle this outrageous prince.

"Well, are you just going to stand there or are you going to clean it up?" Snape screamed, which made the poor girl jump about a foot in the air before hurrying to attend to the mess. His jaw tightened as his fist clenched so tightly around the edge of the table, his pallid knuckles turned even whiter. "_Idiot_ girl."

Snape watched the girl as she knelt down and collected the fractured pieces of porcelain and the slop the cook dared to call food in the folds of her apron. He loosened his grip on the table and sank back into his seat, which was, he had to admit, comfortable. His eyes followed her as she made her way towards the door. "And this time," Snape drawled, pretending to pick dirt out from under his nails, which was just absurd because his nails were sparkling clean, just like every bit of him was, "_don't_ put green vegetables on the plate. If the mistake occurs again, I don't think I'll be so lenient."

Her eyes wide as saucers, the girl nodded her head. "Y-yes, Your Majesty," she stammered, curtseying as she backed out of the room.

Once she was gone, Snape leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table. "Avery!" he said with a snap of his fingers. "I need you."

Almost immediately, a mousy haired young man appeared at his side, dropping down to his knees with his head bent. "Whatever do you need, my liege?"

"First of all, you can replace this wine with one of the bottles I brought along as a gift for Lily," Snape said, thrusting his goblet into Avery's outstretched hand and causing the scarlet liquid to slop all over the place. "I'm sure she won't miss something she didn't even know she had in the first place. And second, after you remove my boots, shine them. If I'm going to be in the presence of the Princesses of Westerflower, I want to see my reflection in my shoes."

"Yes, my liege," Avery said with a deep nod. "Anything else?"

"Hmm," Snape said, curling his tiny chin beard round his finger as he contemplated any other requests he could make. "Oh, I've got it." He sat up in his seat, his feet slipping from the table top. Then he held them out to Avery. "Rub."

"R-rub, my liege? You want me to rub your feet?"

"After you remove the boots, you stupid swine, yes," Snape said. "And hurry with the wine already. I'm absolutely parched."

Barely able to refrain from grimacing, Avery nodded his head dutifully. "Yes, my liege. Anything for the crowned prince."

As his servant ducked out of the chamber, Snape smiled to himself, still stroking his thin beard as he marvelled at the wonder he was.

* * *

><p>AN: A bit of filler, yes, but it's setting events into motion. In the next chapter, Snape shall make his grand entrance at Westerhaven Castle and Sirius will return! Yay! Also, sorry for the lack of updates these past few weeks. The chapters are done (at least up until Chapter 12), but I just didn't have the motivation to clean this up before posting it until today. Anyway, enjoy!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Explanation for delay at the end of the chapter!

**Chapter Seven**

The door to her chambers banged open.

"LILY!" Petunia shrieked as she stalked into her little sister's room, her silvery robes billowing behind her.

"What?" Lily questioned, not rising from her relaxed position on her bed, where she had been reading a book.

"Don't take that tone with me," she snapped, tilting her chin imperiously whilst still managing to glare down her long nose at her sister. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Well, I _was_ reading until you decided to barge in here -"

"I did _not_ barge!" Her tone suggested that she was scandalized by the very thought of being compared to a large shipping vessel.

Lily rolled her eyes, dog-earring the page of the botany book she'd been flipping through and setting it aside. It wasn't engrossing like some of her novels back home, but it was engaging enough to entertain her for the time being. Anything to kill some time and stave off the boredom. She folded her hands on her lap and stared up at her sister, adopting a sweet smile. "May I help you?"

Tugging on the bodice of her dress, Petunia glowered at Lily. "You can start by ditching the attitude - I will not tolerate it today of all days. Today is too important to put up with your childish behaviour."

Lily grimaced. She had tried to avoid thinking about Snape's arrival at the castle, mainly because it solidified the fact her parents, who had yet to return from their holiday in the mountains, had promised her to a man she didn't even love, let alone know. At least, she did not know this version of Snape, just like they didn't know this version of her. For all she knew, the other Lily was head over heels in love with Prince Severus Snape, but something in her gut told her that this was untrue. From the information she'd gathered from others, Princess Lily of Westerflower was quite the rebellious child. But here was her sister, storming into her room and reminding her of the thing she'd spent hours trying to forget.

"And there's no use in making faces, Lily," added Petunia once she caught sight of her sister's expression. "Prince Severus will be here by evening, and there's nothing you can do to prevent it from happening."

"I could order our troops to ambush him," Lily muttered darkly, crossing her arms over her chest. As childish as it sounded, she didn't like being told what to do, especially not by her older sister.

Petunia gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth. "You will do no such thing!" she screeched, her voice reaching a new hair-rising volume. Lily winced. "And you will stop this nonsense immediately or else -"

"'Or else' what?" Lily challenged, arching a brow. "You'll throw me in the dungeons for being your kid sister? You'll tell Mummy and Daddy?"

"Yes," Petunia responded with a sharp nod. "I will."

"Throw me in the dungeons?" Lily snorted, reaching out to snatch up her book. "That's a bit overdramatic, don't you think?"

Petunia gnashed her teeth together, doing all she could to remain calm in her sister's presence. It was damn near impossible, but she was the stronger one, the older one, _the better one_. "No, you idiot. I'm not going to throw you in the dungeons, but I will tell Father. And you know how irritated Daddy gets when you disobey his direct orders." She smiled then, enjoying the triumphant feeling coursing through her veins. _I've got you now, you little brat. _

"But these aren't his direct orders, Tuney," argued Lily, knowing that she was burrowing further and further beneath her sister's skin with every word she said. Secretly, she relished this ability to annoy Petunia with a simple nickname and decided in that moment to do it as much as possible, as it seemed to irritate this Petunia even more than the sister she knew and loved back in the real world. "They're yours and as far as I'm concerned, they have no hold over me."

Emitting a small shriek of rage, Petunia stomped her foot on the ground and put her hands on her hips. "Daddy put me in charge, so you have to do exactly as I say!" She glared at Lily, her blood boiling at the sight of her red hair, her green eyes, and her freckled skin. "Even if these aren't his direct orders, if he found out you were intentionally trying to sabotage your marriage to Prince Severus, which has been cemented since before you were born, he would go mental!"

"Then let him go mental!" Lily exclaimed, tossing her book aside and leaping to her feet. She stalked up to her sister until they were nose-to-nose. Lily narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth. "I don't want to marry Snape!"

"That's _Prince Severus_ to you, Lily," growled Petunia, stepping so close to Lily the latter had to cross her eyes to see the thin blonde properly. "If you don't wish to be locked in your chambers for the rest of the day, I think you would do well to apologise to me for making such calloused remarks about your promised husband and adjust your attitude to one more fitting of your status! Do I make myself clear?"

Grinding her teeth, Lily gave a short nod of her head.

"Lily!"

Her features twisting unattractively, Lily spat, "Yes."

Petunia stared at her pointedly. "Don't you have anything else to say?"

Pulling a face and doing her best not to reach out and hex her sister, she added, "I'm sorry, _Tuney._"

Though it was hardly a sincere apology, the fact there were servants around to hear it be made seemed to be enough for Petunia. She took a step away from her sister, smoothed out the front of her dress, and cleared her throat primly. "Now, where's your maid?" She gave a snap of her fingers, craning her neck around the room. "Mary? Mary, where are you?"

"She's eating lunch," Lily answered bitingly. "She should be back soon."

"Oh," said Petunia, clearly caught off guard by the information. "Well, then, perhaps I shall have Bernice give her a talking to; she shouldn't be taking time out of her schedule to eat lunch when there's preparations to be made." She shook her head to herself. "But no matter. We'll have someone else dress you." Again, she snapped her fingers. "Jane?"

A reed of a girl appeared at Petunia's side in an instant. "Yes, Your Highness?"

Petunia didn't even spare the girl a glance. "Help my sister into a fresh dress. And make sure it is appropriate for today's mood."

The girl looked unsure. "Which is?"

"Joyous, of course," Petunia said in a tone that suggested it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And no matter how much she begs and pleads, do _not_ let her wear any of the dresses our aunt bought for her. They're too modern, too daring, and Prince Severus is very traditional. Am I understood?"

The girl curtseyed so far her nose nearly touched the ground. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Good girl." Petunia smiled acidly at Lily. "You should take a lesson out of dear Jane's book and learn some obedience."

Lily did nothing but glower at her sister. "Goodbye," she said mordantly, giving a little sarcastic wave of her fingers.

"Goodbye, dear sister of mine," replied Petunia in a sickly sweet voice. "See you at sundown."

With an ostentatious wink, Petunia shut the door behind her. While Lily sulked inside, the elder Evans girl turned towards the black dog sitting in the corridor, panting as he stared up at her, awaiting his orders.

"Make sure to follow her if she leaves," Petunia instructed. "I don't care if she's making a trip to the next room, do not let her out of your sight."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Sirius said mechanically, thinking that the princess was taking her father's words a bit too seriously. He didn't say anything, though, just gave a brief nod of his head. "Of course, Your Highness."

She gave a simpering smile and pat him once on the head. "Good dog," she said before breezing down the corridor.

* * *

><p>James paused in his work to take a break and catch his breath - and silently curse Moody for putting him in such a foul mood.<p>

When he had woke that morning, he had expected to attend to his usual duties, which he usually completed before lunch, but Alastor had another thing for him.

"You want me to _what_?"

"Some o' the gard'ners didn't show up, so ye've got ter help with the tendin'," Alastor had explained.

"Tending what?"

"Flowers, ye eejit, what else?" Shaking his head, Alastor had lumbered towards the door. "And ye best git a move on - the princess is comin' ter inspect yer work at three." He'd smacked James' bare foot on his way out the door, cackling as usual.

"Mental," James had muttered as he dragged himself out of bed and pulled on a fresh shirt.

If James had thought mucking out stables and running the horses through their exercises was difficult, it was nothing compared to heaving his hoe into the ground and tilling up the soil - if soil was what one could call it as it was more like clay than anything else - for fresh flowers to be planted. The blisters on his palms and fingers, which had nearly scabbed over, broke open again and his gloves were soaked with blood. He was sweating in places that he would rather not mention, and, of course, it was the hottest day so far.

Of course, he'd only been at the castle for three days, but still, the weather had been mild up until that point and he'd thought it would stay that way. Naturally, what he wanted and how it was were two completely different things.

Leaning his weight against the handle of the hoe, James dragged his hand across his forehead in an attempt to mop up all of the sweat coating his skin. Naturally, it didn't work, but the motion felt nice and at least he wasn't tilling the earth. What was the soil made of here, anyway, bricks? His shirt clung uncomfortably to his back and his chest, which was slick with a fresh layer of sweat. He was sure he smelled like the wrong end of a horse - not that there was a right end that smelled pleasant, but whatever.

With a shrug of his aching shoulders, James grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. As soon as the damp fabric unstuck itself from his skin, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Refreshed wasn't quite the word for it, but he didn't feel like he was a pig who enjoyed rolling around in his own filth. Bunching up the fabric, he wiped the sweat away from his face, his neck, and the topmost part of his chest. Once done, he tossed the now-soaking shirt to the ground and stretched again.

Feeling much better than he had seconds before, James readjusted his grip on his gardening tool and returned to his work, which was more like slave labour than anything else, taking his aggression towards his current predicament out on the earth rather than the man who'd stuck him with this shit job. At least he wouldn't get thrown in the stocks for it.

* * *

><p>Not a half hour after Petunia had swept out of her chambers did Lily poke her head out into the corridor. As always, there were two guards stationed on either side of her door, both of them holding long spears that gleamed, sharp and silver, at the end. They didn't so much as glance in her direction as she stepped out of her rooms, pulling the door shut behind her.<p>

"Good day," she said with a nod towards the guards.

They seemed surprised, but nodded in return all the way. "Good day, Your Highness."

As she walked away, one of the guards nudged the other, which alerted Sirius, who had been napping in the corner, to the princess's departure. Remembering the orders issued to him by Princess Petunia, he got to his feet and padded down the hall after her.

It didn't take Lily long to notice that she was being followed. She rolled her eyes, knowing that Petunia had put her pursuer up to it, no doubt because she thought Lily would try to leave the castle before Snape arrived. Which, Lily had to admit, was a suitable cause for extra supervision as she was all too tempted to leap over the palace wall and disappear forever. She'd do anything to escape a marriage to Snape.

She stopped suddenly and whirled around, catching Sirius before he could hide behind a statute, though he still tried. Lily folded her arms over chest and shook her head, amused. "You know that I can see you, right?"

"Yes, I know," grumbled Sirius, slinking out from behind the statute, looking every bit like a kicked puppy. "How long did it take you?"

"To realise you were following me?" she asked, which Sirius confirmed with a nod. "Somewhere around the library."

If he had eyebrows, Lily imagined him lifting them. "That soon?" He winced, causing Lily to laugh. "I must be getting rusty. What gave me away?"

"For starters, I could hear your paws on the marble," Lily replied. "And you pant so loudly, I'm sure the centaurs heard you."

"Centaurs?" Sirius said, scrunching up his face. "There aren't centaurs in the forest. Your father relocated them ages ago."

While the information surprised Lily, her features didn't show it. "That's exactly my point, Sirius," she said with a smile. "Try to keep the volume down next time you attempt to follow me and - you know, you should really consider getting your nails trimmed. They must be long if they're scratching the marble."

"I've been meaning to do that for the longest time, but _you_ try fitting something as trivial as a nail trimming in when you work for your sister," Sirius said dryly.

Lily laughed as she started down the corridor. "I'm sure she's difficult to handle."

Sirius snorted, following after the princess. "Ha! You don't even know the half of it. This one time when she was visiting the Northernfield castle…"

As they meandered through the castle, Sirius regaled Lily with amusing tales about Petunia, some of which he may have exaggerated, but all of which she believed to be true. Petunia wasn't called the Queen of Melodrama in the Evans household without reason. It was strange to think that Lily was enjoying Sirius' company when, previously, she had been all too happy to be rid of him. But this Sirius that she was talking to was much more like the one she knew at Hogwarts: while he could be annoying and prideful at times, he was actually all right to be around. She might not prefer his company to Mary's, but it was better than being locked up in her chambers for the entire day, doing nothing except wallowing in her own self pity.

All too soon, there was an increase in temperature and Lily began to sweat. It certainly didn't help that she was wearing a dress that weighed nearly as much as she did or that the sun was at its highest point in the sky, beating down fiercely. She plucked at the neck of her dress, which did little to cool her off.

"So," Sirius said after a moment of silence. "I heard from one little birdie, who heard from another little bird, who heard firsthand from your most trusted maid that you, My Lady, were desperately seeking the stable boy from the other day." He twisted his head to look up at her, his eyes slanted against the bright sunrays. "Is this true?"

"Yes, it is," she answered as they descended the steps to the Royal Garden, "and no, we didn't do anything inappropriate, so get your mind out of the gutter." She smiled when Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "No, I merely thanked him for helping me out and he thanked me for giving him a lift back to the castle. It was nothing more than that."

"If you insist."

"I do."

"Okay. Whatever you say goes."

"You better believe it does," Lily muttered sourly as they walked past a cluster of yellow rose bushes.

Again, Sirius laughed. "For a princess, you have quite the temper."

"Are you saying just because I'm royalty, I'm not allowed to have feelings?"

"Yes," Sirius replied. "I am."

Lily rolled her eyes. "That's so archaic, not to mention ridiculous. People can't function without emotions."

"I agree," said Sirius. "You with a temper is much more fun than you with your nose stuck in a book, though I must admit," he added as an afterthought, "I do prefer you when you're in a good mood like you are today."

"Likewise," she said as she turned the corner, expecting to see another row of tall hedges or a fountain, not a dozen shirtless men hacking away at the earth with rakes and hoes. She turned to Sirius, her eyebrows raised in question. "What are they doing?"

"Obviously, they're working, Your Highness," Sirius quipped.

She glared down at him. "You know what I meant, Sirius."

"They're replacing the hydrangeas with lilies."

"But why? The hydrangeas looked perfectly fine to - oh!" She paused as the realisation dawned upon her. Did Petunia really think it was clever to fill the entire garden with lilies just because her name was Lily? Probably, but Petunia had always been the more direct one of the pair, preferring the literal to the vague. "Well, then. That's a bit over the top, don't you think?" She glanced at Sirius. "Not to sound arrogant, but I'm sure everyone knows that my name is Lily and I'm the princess. Does it need to broadcast so…literally?"

"It was your sister's idea," offered Sirius.

Lily snorted, her eyes roving over the tanned and muscled backs of the workers, barely maintaining her schooled expression; she couldn't help but appreciate what was set before her. "Figures. It's not like she's subtle."

"The same could be said about you."

The remark went unnoticed by Lily, for the moment Sirius had uttered the words, one of the workers (the one she had been watching most intently) paused in his work to either catch his breath or readjust his grip or to move onto another hole - she didn't know what he was doing, but that was hardly important. What mattered was that he was tall, his skin was lightly tanned, and his dark hair was rumpled in such a way, she wanted to run her fingers through it.

She watched, seemingly transfixed, as he stretched one arm over his head and then the other, more than appreciating the way his damp skin seemed to move like water over his taut muscles - fluid and uninterrupted. He removed the shirt hanging from the waist of his trousers to dab away the sweat on the back of his neck and suddenly, Lily wished she were the shirt. Or the sweat. She didn't care as long as she was touching his body. A flush spilled out over her cheeks as the thought passed through her mind, but she couldn't help herself. It was impossible to look away from it - from him.

So, it was needless to say that when the sweaty and shirtless Boy Wonder turned around in search for a water jug, Lily was more than a little shocked to see that she hadn't been admiring some stranger with an attractive form at all, but James bloody Potter. She felt her jaw drop and she blinked, hoping to clear away the illusion, but it stuck: Potter was shirtless, he was sweaty, and she had been salivating, lusting even, after him only seconds ago.

She groaned, though whether out of disgust or weakening resolve, she couldn't be sure.

Besides her, Sirius chuckled knowingly. "Nothing more, you say?" With a wink, he started down the path and Lily followed, half stomping, half drooling, behind him.

* * *

><p>"Are you <em>sure<em> I look presentable?" Lily asked, fidgeting nervously with the hem of the dress's sleeve. "I don't want Petunia to throw another conniption because I look inappropriate."

"You look beautiful," Mary reassured Lily for what seemed like the seventeenth time in the last two minutes alone. And it was true. Dressed in an emerald gown made of the finest silk, with her hair twisted into an elegant knot at the back of her head, Lily looked every bit of the princess she was, even without her circlet, which Mary made sure to grab as she ushered Lily out of the door.

"It's your job to appease me, so your opinion doesn't count," Lily said as she led the way down the corridor, her heavy skirts clasped in her hands.

Mary scoffed, but didn't say anything. Lily had been acting odd - well, odder than she had been the last few days - ever since she returned from her walk around the Royal Gardens. At first, Mary attributed her peculiar behaviour to the heat, but now she knew the truth: Lily was nervous about seeing Prince Severus, and with good reason. He was her betrothed, after all, and wasn't particularly well known for his kindness.

They had mere moments to spare by the time they reached the entrance hall, where Princess Petunia stood, looking absolutely thunderous. Thankfully, she didn't say anything to her sister, though she shot her a look of supreme dissatisfaction as Mary placed the circlet upon Lily's brow.

"Let us not keep the prince waiting," Petunia said, holding out her elbow for Lily, who grasped it with some reluctance.

Together, they stepped out into the setting sun, walking down the wide staircase until their feet touched gravel. Lily moved to release her sister's arm, but Petunia clapped her hand down upon Lily's and gave the slightest shake of her head. Knowing better than to cause a scene, Lily remained as she was, her back straight and knees trembling, as she watched the horizon.

It didn't take long for the travelling party to come into view and oh, what a party it was. Four intimidating men sat astride four equally intimidating black horses, touches of gold glinting off of the saddles and reins. The horsemen were followed by a large black carriage that, unlike the horses' accessories, was covered in gold, which gleamed proudly in the sun. In several places, there were huge emeralds, though Lily noticed a few of the spaces were empty and she surmised that some of the jewels had been stolen in the ambush.

When the footman hopped down from his seat and moved to open the door, Lily's breath hitched in her throat and she tightened her grasp on her sister's arm. Much to her surprise, Petunia gave her a hand a comforting pat and when she glanced up at her, the elder girl was smiling tightly, her eyes tinged with sympathy.

The door swung open, the footman extended a hand, and a black gloved hand rested upon his outstretched palm primly. The hand was followed by two shining leather boots, a pair of knobbly legs, a long torso, and finally, the hooked nose of her childhood friend, Severus Snape. There were hardly any differences between this Snape and the one she knew, save for the hair. Unlike her Snape, this one kept his hair brushed back away from his face, held in place by his ostentatious crown.

"Ah, hello, Petunia," Snape said in his oily voice, straightening his shoulders and striding over towards the sisters. He took her hand within his grasp and dropped a small kiss onto her knuckles.

"Hello, Severus," Petunia returned warmly. "It is such a pleasure to welcome you back to our home."

"Oh, no, no," Snape said with a shake of his head. "The pleasure's all mine."

A blush crept onto Petunia's cheeks as he winked. Then, he turned his attention to Lily, who tried not to flinch as he did as he had with her sister and picked up her hand. However, unlike Petunia, when he kissed the back of her hand, he locked eyes with her, his black gaze seeming to penetrate her. He pulled back, but didn't let go of her hand. "Lily, my dear Lily flower," he schmoozed, his voice laced with false sincerity as he regarded her. "You grow more lovely with each passing day."

She fought back a grimace. "Thank you, Sna - Severus," she corrected herself.

Petunia cleared her throat loudly.

"Oh! And you - well," Lily gave him a quick once over. "You are just as handsome as I remember you being."

Snape patted her hand. "You're too sweet, Lily dearest. But enough with greetings!" he cried, pulling on her arm and placing her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Come now, let us feast!"

"I do hope you're hungry, Severus," Petunia said as she led them inside. "I've had the cooks make all of the famous Easterhollow dishes as well as some native food."

Severus leered down at Lily, his eyebrows raising suggestively as he said in an almost purr, "I'm absolutely starving."

This time, Lily didn't bother hiding her tremble.

* * *

><p>AN: The past few weeks have been incredibly hectic. My little brother had extensive reconstructive knee and ankle surgery, so I've been spending a large amount of time at the hospital with him, with no internet connection or anything. Between commuting there, staying with him, and getting sleep, I haven't had much time to post this update, but I've finally recovered from the shock of seeing the midnight screening of DH part II and decided, what the hell? Why not post an update, even though it is so very long overdue? I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and that you haven't lost interest in it. Thank you for being so patience and I promise the next chapter will come out soon enough.


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